Tony Hurts His Knee
by super em
Summary: Tony never admits that he's hurt. But what happens when he pushes it too far? Yep, I actually wrote a story about Tony hurting his knee. Please R&R. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_**Tony Hurts His Knee**_

_Yep, I actually wrote a story about Tony hurting his knee. Creative title, huh. There's gonna be at least 7 chapters... I think I have too much spare time on my hands. I'm still working my other story, **The Package**, this silly idea just came to me and I couldn't resist writing it. Thanks for reading, please tell me what you think._

_Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I don't own NCIS. All hail DPB._

_Tony never admits that he's hurt. But what happens when he pushes it too far?_

**Chapter 1**

"NCIS. Freeze!" Tony yelled, flashing his badge, partly because it looked cool and partly because the crowd that had gathering around them looked a little worried when he pointed his gun at the suspect. The suspect, wearing grey sweatpants and a red hoodie, obeyed for a second, stopping in his tracks. But he took one look at the guns Ziva and Tony were holding and took off again.

"Damn it!" Tony muttered, taking up the chase again. "Why can't they just stay still?"

With his long legs, Tony overtook Ziva, quickly gaining on the suspect. He turned into a alley off the main street to Tony's relief. He was cornered now. Tony skidded around the corner, still holding his gun, only to see the man clambering over the wire fence at the back.

"Oh, come on!" Still running, Tony glanced down. He wasn't really dressed for this kind of work, in his suit and Italian shoes. But he'd rather spoil the shoes then face Gibbs for losing the suspect, so holding back a sigh, Tony leapt onto the dumpster, following the hooded man over the fence. Using the other side of the fence as a base, Tony sprung off, regaining even more distance between himself and the man.

Tony lunged, wrapping his arms around the shoulders of the suspect, intending to bring them both to a stand-still. The suspect was a little shorter than Tony, but he was bulkier as well and kept running, Tony hanging onto his back. With a grunt, Tony dug his knees in. The man spun, trying to get rid of Tony. He lost balance, falling back onto Tony. They both fell hard, sliding and rolling down the sloped road. Coming to a halt, both men lay still, disentangling themselves. An instant later, the suspect was up again, running across the street, albeit a little slower than before.

Tony groaned, pulling himself back up. Where the hell was Ziva. Or Gibbs for that matter. Didn't matter. He'd have to catch the man by himself. Tony took off, tearing across the street, dodging the cars, catching up to the suspect again. Handcuffs at the ready, Tony barreled into the man, slamming him into the brick wall of a building as Tony clicked on the cuffs, securing them tightly. Panting, he leant back against the wall, holding the suspect by the shoulders firmly. A second later, a blue sedan pulled up, tyres screeching. Gibbs and McGee jumped out, running over to assist before they could see Tony had it under control.

Slowing to a walk, Gibbs hid a smile. Tony, now covered in dirt and gravel, might act like a lazy fratboy most of the time, but when it came to the crunch, he was the one to rely on. McGee took the suspect, leading him to the backseat of the sedan.

"Good work DiNozzo." Gibbs said with a nod. Tony didn't see the nod, but he smiled, acknowledging the complement.

"Thanks boss." He was still catching his breath. A crunch of the gravel underfoot alerted them of Ziva's arrival. Puffing only slightly, she jogged up, a smile cracking her lips when she saw the suspect apprehended and in custody.

"What took you, Zee-vah?" Tony said, standing straight and dusting himself off.

"Got lost." She said curtly.

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow. "Run faster next time. You never, never let your partner out of eyeshot."

"Yes Gibbs." She nodded, head lowered.

"We're not all gonna fit in the sedan. Ziva, you walk back and take the other car." Gibbs cast a look downwards at Tony's knees. His pants were ripped, his knees skinned and bleeding from the tussle with the suspect. He wasn't going to make Tony walk the long distance back to the café where they'd been watching the suspect. Ziva, on the other hand…

With a nod, Ziva left, taking off at a jog. Tony took the front seat, sighing sadly as he surveyed the remnants of his designer trousers, leaving McGee to share the backseat with the suspect. Not a lot of fun, because with Gibbs at the wheel they were guaranteed of being thrown into each other around every turn.

Gibbs started the car, pressing hard on the accelerator. McGee, unprepared, was sent right into the arms of the suspect. With a startled yelp, he pulled himself up, moving as far away as possible from the man.

"Chin up Probie. He's only a drug dealer. Just think how much worse it could be," Tony said brightly from the comfort of the front seat.

"Thanks, Tony." McGee smiled wryly.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_yay reviews! Thanks everyone for reading and reviewed :) here's the next thrilling installment... hope you like!_

**Chapter 2**

Director Shepperd was waiting on the staircase when they returned to NCIS. She did a double-take when DiNozzo stepped out of the lift, disheveled, dusty and bleeding, but wasn't surprised. He was on Gibbs' team after all. Ziva and McGee followed, taking their places at the desks. Gibbs was the last to come, leading the suspect by the handcuffs.

"Oww, man, my hands. That guy," the suspect threw a dirty look in Tony's direction, "put them on too tight. It hurts!"

"Shut up," Gibbs ordered, pushing him forward. He sat him in interrogation, leaving him to stew, handcuffs still on, returning to the bull-pen to start on the paperwork. He looked up when he felt the director's shadow falling across his desk.

"Something I can help you with, Jen?"

"Actually, I have something to tell you. But you're not going to like it." Jen said, not to be intimidated.

Gibbs stopped writing, finally making contact with her face.

"FBI is taking over the case. We no longer have jurisdiction." She waited for his reaction, preparing herself so she wouldn't react when he raised his voice.

"WHAT?" Despite herself, Jen flinched involuntarily. She'd forgotten just how angry Gibbs could get.

"This is our case, Jen. We tracked down the drug smugglers. We traced to the location. We were the ones who just brought in the suspect. Just what does this have to do with the FBI?"

"I'm sorry, Gibbs. The drug dealer you arrested has links to a drug circle the FBI has been watching for several years. They're taking him in for questioning."

Gibbs said nothing, staring at the director with fiery eyes. She glared back for a few seconds before turning away.

"Fornell will be here to collect your suspect shortly," She called out when she was halfway up the stairs. "Try and behave yourself, Jethro."

With a non-commital grunt, Gibbs sat back in his chair, tossing down his pen. "Get up." He said suddenly, standing up.

Tony, Ziva and McGee got up, curious, following him to the lift. When they were all in Gibbs pressed the button for the basement.

"Gibbs, where are we going?" Ziva asked.

Tony already knew the answer. Ziva might be relatively new to this, but he knew from experience where Gibbs went when a case didn't go according to plan.

"We're going to the gym. Sparring time, Zee-vah," Tony answered, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

Gibbs saw, despite the fact that Tony was standing beside him. He turned, hand poised to slap. Tony anticipated this, smiling and stepping backwards.

"I mean, we're going to the gym to train and make sure our bodies are in peak physical condition, boss." He said quickly.

Gibbs lip twitched and he lowered his hand. Tony was relieved. He had enough of a headache already after the suspect had pushed him onto the road. Gibbs glanced down.

"DiNozzo, you're bleeding. Go see Ducky."

"Nah, its just a scratch, boss." Tony glanced down at the ragged remains of his pants.

"Wasn't a suggestion. I don't want you bleeding all over the floor. You're making a mess." Gibbs stopped the lift suddenly, jolting all the passengers. The doors opened on autopsy's floor.

"Go." Gibbs ordered, standing back to let him through.

Grumbling, Tony got off, trying not to wince as he stumbled out of the lift. "Yes boss."

"Come meet us at the gym when you're done."

Tony nodded and the lift doors closed once more. Cursing under his breath, Tony wandered through the sliding doors of Autopsy, praying that Ducky wasn't in the middle of an autopsy. Thankfully he wasn't. Rather, Ducky, Palmer and Abby were sitting around one of the metal tables, immersed in a game of poker.

"I'll see your three scalpels and raise you a rubber glove." Abby declared, fiercely protecting her cards from the other two. Ducky looked up as Tony entered.

"Good afternoon, Anthony. How ar- oh… what has happened, dear boy?" Ducky said, his voice filling with concern as he stood up from his chair.

Abby turned around. "Tony! You're all bleeding!"

"I know. I was tackling a suspect this morning. Ended up kind of faceplanting the road."

Ducky raised his eyebrows. "And why are you only coming to me now?"

"It's just a graze, Ducky. I'm only here because Gibbs didn't want me to drip blood everywhere." Tony jumped up on a spare autopsy table, grinning at Abby. "Think you can bandage me up, Duck?"

Ducky nodded. "Of course. Let me take a look." He quickly examined the scrapes on Tony's head, satisfied that they were only superficial. Abby helped out, covering them with a Batman band-aid as Ducky turned his attention to Tony's knees.

"Ow! That hurts, Ducky!" Ducky ignored Tony's complaints, squatting to check the damage. Taking his surgical scissors, he cut away the pants from the knee downward.

"Hey! These were my favourite pants!"

Abby laughed at Tony, now sitting beside him on the table.

"From what I can tell, its just a graze. Slightly deeper on the right leg, I take it you fell heavily on that side. There is some gravel embedded in the wound, however, young Tony." Ducky took the tweezers from his tray, removing the gravel to Tony's protests. "That seems to be the lot of it," Ducky said finally, the kidney dish littered with small fragments of gravel. "I would like to take an x-ray, to be sure there is no deeper damage that I can't see."

"C'mon Duck, that's not necessary. It's just a graze. I'm sure you've got better things to do." Tony said, eager to escape the morgue.

"If our card game is any indication, Anthony, we do not. I'm sure you know as well as I do, we've had no new cases for over a week."

Ducky had forgotten just how stubborn Tony could be. After ten minutes of debate he conceded and Tony gratefully left, glad to escape the smell of the disinfectant. Abby ducked into the lift with him just as the doors were closing. She pushed the button to take her to her floor.

"You've got a pretty good poker face, Tony."

Tony snorted. He was terrible at poker and she knew it. "I didn't even play, Abs. Gibbs is waiting for me in the gym."

"I've been watching you. I saw the way you walked out of there. Its more than just a graze." Abby's arms were crossed. She meant business.

"Abby, its nothing. Seriously."

"You're favouring one leg. Is it just a coincidence that it's the same leg you busted in college? Or the same leg you hurt when you got pushed out of that plane?"

The lift arrived at Abby's lab, dinging softly as the doors opened. Abby stepped back, standing in the opening.

"Abby, don't worry about me. I've gotta go, we're training downstairs."

"Real smart, Tony. Make it worse just to impress Gibbs."

"I'm not impressing anyone, Abby. I'm fine. I've got to go." He pressed the button for the basement, not wanting to be any later for Gibbs.

"Look after yourself, Tony. And let me help you. At least promise me that if you're not going to take my advice." Abby stepped back, appealing into his eyes.

Tony leant through the closing doors of the lift, hugging her.

"I promise, Abs. I'll see ya later."

She blew him a kiss as the doors closed.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks everyone who reviewed and/or put this on alert :) Glad you're enjoying! Here's the next serve..._

_This chapter was inspired by the Tony/Gibbs fight scene in 2.05 Bone Yard :)_

**Chapter Three**

The door swung as Tony came out of the locker room, dressed in shorts and a Baltimore PD t-shirt. The team had already started, Gibbs was holding up pads for McGee to hit and Ziva was laying into a punching bag. Tony felt sorry for it.

"Nice of you to join us, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, lowering the punching mitts. Tony glanced at his watch. He'd been gone 30 minutes.

Ziva stopped punching, breathing heavily. She raised her eyebrows as she surveyed Tony, the large white bandages wrapped around his knees contrasting with his black running shorts.

"You okay to do this Tony?" Gibbs asked, his face skeptical.

Tony brushed it off. "Sure boss. Just a scratch."

"Well if you're sure." Gibbs said, wiping the sweat from his face. "DiNozzo, David, in the ring. McGee, you're on the bag."

McGee headed towards the punching bag, still swinging from the force of Ziva's fists. Tony and Ziva fitted their mouth guards, climbing into the boxing ring.

"Winner takes on McGee," Gibbs said with a rare smile. McGee gulped, timidly punching the bag.

At Gibbs' call, Ziva and Tony began, dancing around each other, taking the occasional swing when they were close enough. Ziva cut, her fist swiping Tony's head. The distraction gave her time to sweep her foot behind Tony's knocking him onto his back. She jumped down, straddling him as she smiled through her mouthpiece. Tony wrinkled his nose in response, using his size to flip them both over so that he was on top of her.

"Break it up," Gibbs called from the side and Tony pulled himself up, offering a hand to Ziva. She ignored it, jumping lightly to her feet.

"Go again," Gibbs ordered. "DiNozzo, don't be afraid to hit her. Doesn't matter whether they're male or female when they're fighting to kill."

Tony nodded, turning back to face Ziva. They briefly touched gloves, stepping backwards to spar again. On the balls of his feet, he hopped around, arms raised. Ziva stood, feet flat on the floor, watching him intently. Remembering Gibbs' advice, Tony swallowed, swinging at Ziva with his left fist. She dodged it swiftly, but was unprepared for Tony's right. He swung in hard, his glove making contact with her jaw.

Before they knew it, Ziva was down on the floor and Gibbs was calling the fight.

"Good job DiNozzo. McGee, you're up."

This time Ziva accepted Tony's outstretched hand, slipping under the ropes of the ring with fiery eyes. Annoyed at her loss, she headed back to the boxing bag to vent some of her anger.

McGee stood in Ziva's place as Tony wiped the sweat from his face and gloves.

He turned back to McGee, raising his fists into the defensive position.

Tony shot a smile at McGee, who smiled uneasily back.

"Fight!" Gibbs called.

They began, Tony doing most of the punching, McGee deflecting them as he'd been taught with Gibbs. A few of Tony's hit, but they weren't hard. McGee suspected that Tony was going a little easy on him. McGee took a swing, Tony ducking under it with ease. He returned the punch, hitting McGee softly on the jaw.

"Hit like a man, DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled. "McGee, fight back!"

Tony obeyed, swinging hard with an uppercut. McGee deflected it, remembering Ziva's move from the earlier fight. Swinging with his left, McGee aimed for Tony's head, knowing he would easily dodge it. As he did, McGee kicked out, hard, trying to sweep Tony off his feet as Ziva had. However, he miscalculated, and Tony, sensing what he was trying to do, wasn't going to fall for the same trick again. Tony stepped back just as McGee kicked forward. McGee's foot flew hard into Tony's right knee.

Tony went down, losing his mouth guard in the process. He fell on his ass on the floor, looking a little dazed, biting his lip to hold in the string of expletives threatening to spill out.

McGee, realizing what he'd done, dropped his defensive stance immediately, spitting out the mouth guard.

"Tony, I'm so sorry! Are you okay??" McGee bent down next to his colleague, immediately concerned.

Tony held his hand up, still biting his lip. He used the ropes to pull himself to his feet, unable to hold in the gasp of breath as he put pressure on the leg, climbing out of the ring. Gibbs grabbed him, holding him steady.

"Y'okay, DiNozzo?"

DiNozzo nodded. "Yeah boss. Just a sore spot."

"I'll say," Gibbs said, glancing at the huge circle of raw skin where the bandage hung askew. "You need to see Ducky again?"

"Nah, its okay. I just need to ...walk it off." Tony stepped forward, masking the grimace of pain.

"Boss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" McGee stopped as Gibbs shot him a look. Ziva joined them, watching Tony limp slowly to the locker room.

"Go clean up." Gibbs ordered curtly. "I want you at your desks in 10."

_Comments? Thoughts? I like reviews :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all so much for the reviews and alerts. Im super-happy with the response to this story, so i thought i'd update. It's fun to write :) In response to your comments, of course it's gonna be worse than Tony lets on - its Tony we're talking about :P I'm not gonna let him get off with just a scratch and a bruise. Heh heh... So heres the next installment, please tell me what you think! _

**Chapter Four**

Tony was already in the shower by the time McGee ran into the men's locker room. Not bothering to keep the bandages around his knees dry, since they were already dirty and torn, he breathed in as the cool water ran through his hair. He wasn't about to admit how much pain McGee's slip of the foot had caused him, but the water allowed him to take his mind off the throbbing pain.

Not for long. He yelped, cursing as the water hit the raw, exposed skin of his knees, causing him to jump back. And that did wonders to help his knee.

"Son of a…." Tony growled, cursing like a sailor and bracing himself with the shower walls. Sweat sufficiently washed away, he turned off the water, grabbing the towel from the hook. Drying himself quickly, Tony wrapped the towel around his hips, venturing out to his locker to get new clothes. Thankfully he kept a spare pair of jeans in there, since his trousers were beyond repair. He pulled out the jeans and a roll of gauze, lowering himself carefully onto the bench and wrapping the gauze around each knee a couple of times so the blood wouldn't stain his jeans. No way he was ruining two pairs in one day.

Going commando, Tony pulled the jeans on, abandoning the towel on the bench. He pulled himself back up, searching the locker for a clean shirt to replace the dirt and grass stained shirt he'd worn when tackling the suspect. No such luck. Cursing again, he pulled on the singlet he'd been wearing.

McGee stepped out of the shower behind him. Tony's head turned. He hadn't even realized McGee was there. Probably wouldn't have sworn so much if he'd known.

"Tony, about before – I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to –"

Tony stopped him mid-sentence. He hated admitting to pain, but he hated making others feel guilty even more.

"Probie, relax. It was an accident. I've had problems with this knee before, crash-tackling that guy probably wasn't the smartest thing to do." He gave McGee a reassuring smile, rebuttoning the distasteful shirt with a grimace. It smelt like asphalt, gasoline and mud.

"We better hurry," McGee said, obviously relieved. "Gibbs is waiting."

With a groan, Tony stood up again, leaning on the bench for support as he limped towards the door. He masked the pain with a smile, seeing McGee's look of concern.

Since the FBI had poached their only case, the team was able to spend the afternoon catching up on paperwork. Tony never thought he'd be glad to be stuck behind the desk. Even Gibbs seemed to be in a good mood, letting them go home early for once.

Tony stood up, grunting as he put pressure on his knee. Grabbing his backpack, he hobbled, almost hopping, to the lift, following Ziva and McGee down to the parking garage.

"Are you gonna be okay to drive, Tony?" McGee asked, seeing Tony lean against the wall of the lift.

"Thanks probie but I'm fine."

The doors opened out onto the covered parking garage and they headed in different directions to their respective cars. Tony mentally Gibbs-slapped himself for parking so far away, _and_ up a slope. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, the further away he parked, the smaller the chance of somebody scratching or side-swiping his 69 Mustang.

He'd barely made it before he heard the thud of feet on the concrete and somebody calling his name. Abby, of course. Only she, in her knee-high platform boots could make so much noise.

"Tony!" She said breathlessly, arriving at his car. Her pin-striped hearse was parked in the opposite bay.

"Hey Abs."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Tonight?" It was a Wednesday. Not the best idea to go out clubbing, that was what Tony and Abby usually did together. Not when he'd still have to face Gibbs for another two days. Not that he was in the mood, or the state for it anyway. "I've kinda been looking forward to spending some quality time with my bed. You got plans?"

Abby pouted. "That's no fun. I need another person to come bowling tonight. I guess I'll have to ask McGee." A wicked smile spread across her face. "I have to congratulate him for his victory in the ring, anyway." She cackled and with a wave, headed to her hearse.

Tony swung himself into his car with a grunt. He'd forgotten about that. So technically, McGee had beaten him in a fight.  
"Never thought that'd happen," he mused, letting Abby out first. Although, he realised, she mustn't have heard about his injury from the fight. She wouldn't have been so cheerful if she had. He followed Abby out of the carpark and through the checkpoint of the Navy Yard.

The only disadvantage, Tony thought, of Gibbs letting them go on time, for once, rather than in the middle of the evening, was the peak-hour traffic. Sitting in the middle of a traffic line-up, he drummed his fingers on the wheel. His knee was throbbing again, and he wanted nothing more than to crash on his sofa with a beer and a rather large ice-pack. An hour or so of icing and it should settle down, he figured.Abby wouldn't even need to know he'd hurt it in the fight. She would not be happy to know he'd lied to her.

An unhappy Abby was the last thing he needed.

_Thoughts? Comments? It'll keep me smilin' :P_

_PS: Shirik, don't worry, I havent forgotten the tetanus. its just that i'd already written the chapter. Look out for it in chapter 6 :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_i wasn't planning on posting until tomorrow, but since you guys asked so nicely... here it is :) thanks for the awesome reviews, please keep em coming!_

**Chapter Five**

At exactly 8:07 am on Thursday morning Tony stepped out of the lift and headed for his desk, wincing as he tried to hice his limp.

"You're late, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, not looking up from his file.

"Sorry boss. But you know, as late goes, I'm actually pretty early."

Gibbs raised his eyes, an eyebrow quirking. "Trying to get started early on your daily head-slap quota?"

"No boss." Tony turned his head to the computer, trying to look busy despite the fact that the computer wasn't switched on. As he reached for the button, Gibbs stood up, banging down the phone he'd just answered.

"Don't bother, DiNozzo. We've got a case."

Tony jumped to his feet, unable to conceal the grunt of pain as a new wave of pain shot through his knee.

"DiNozzo, did you get Ducky to look at that knee again?"

"No, boss."

Gibbs sighed. He should've known Tony wouldn't do anything like that unless expressly ordered. But there was no time now. They had a dead marine to investigate.

"Well can ya walk, DiNozzo?"

"Sure boss," Tony said smoothly, taking a step forward to demonstrate. His leg buckled and he pitched forward, Ziva catching him in time.

Gibbs shook his head. Sometimes Tony was too stubborn to even acknowledge his limitations. He tossed McGee the keys. "McGee, gas the truck. DiNozzo, you're staying here. Not much good to us if you can't even walk to the elevator. Desk duty. David, you're with me." Gibbs turned for the elevator, taking out his phone as an afterthough. He pressed the speed-dial for Ducky.

With nobody to annoy or talk to, Tony was utterly bored. The crime scene was approximately 90 minutes away, so with Gibbs or Ziva at the wheel it would be at least an hour before they'd arrive at the crime scene and he'd have something to do. Opening up his Shoot-Osama game, Tony sat back, his hand reaching down to massage his leg muscle.

Less than a minute later, Tony heard a noise and looked up. Abby was standing in front of his desk, her eyes narrowed. Ducky wasn't far behind, walking from the lift. Tony was impressed. He hadn't even heard her arrive. For someone who could be so loud, she could also be surprisingly sneaky.

"Hey Abs, Duck. What's up?"

"Gibbs called Ducky. Said you needed your knee checked out. Thought you said you were fine, Tony." Abby said, arms crossed.

"I am fine," Tony replied with a half-smile. "I was just a bit stiff after yesterday, Gibbs made me stay behind."

Ducky sighed. "Anthony, I know I may tend to waffle on at times, but I did think I made myself exceedingly clear yesterday when I told you not to exert yourself. I do believe boxing qualifies as exertion, do you not?"

"I guess," Tony said reluctantly.

"WAIT a second," Abby said, her hands in the air. She bent forward so her nose was level with Tony's eyes.

"You hurt yourself, and you didn't even tell me? After you promised me you would be careful?"

"Ummm…ah…yeah…" Tony admitted.

Abby swatted him on the head a-la-Gibbs. "God, Tony, for an intelligent guy you can be so… Stupid!!!" And then, with a chuckle, "No wonder McGee beat you then."

Walking behind Tony, she pulled him out on his chair from the desk, spinning him so he was facing Ducky, who'd come around the other side of the desk.

"Let's see the damage, shall we." Ducky picked up the surgical scissors, reaching for the right leg of Tony's pants.

"Hell no, Ducky! These are my favourite jeans!"

"Sorry, Tony, but I'm just following orders. Gibbs ordered me to take care of your knee, and this is the only way I can do it."

Closing his eyes, Tony could hear the scissors working away as his beloved blue jeans fell to the floor.

"Oh dear," Ducky said with a frown. Abby peered over to take a look.

"Oh my god, Tony, that looks really sore!"

"Yeah, it is," he admitted, grimacing as Ducky gently touched the swelling.

"I'm not a specialist, Tony, but it seems to me that you've torn the ligaments in your knee. Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"Hurt the same knee playing college football. Had to have a knee reconstruction," Tony said, his voice tight with pain.

Ducky nodded. "This looks similar. I'd say you've torn at least one ligament, possible the triad. We need to get you checked out, dear boy." He glanced at his watch. "Although I should be leaving to assist Jethro. I'm not quite sure if Mr Palmer is ready to face the hailstorm of Gibbs' questions at a crime scene alone."

"I'll take him," Abby decided, ruffling his hair with her fingers. "Gibbs won't be back for a few hours anyway."

"Thank you, Abigail. And Anthony, I know how you are when it comes to admitting you're injured, but I implore you, avoid putting weight on that leg. You cannot risk furthering the damage."

With a final nod, Ducky left, hurrying into the lift to go after Gibbs.


	6. Chapter 6

_okay, you guys are spoiling me with reviews :P and they're all so sweet, i can't resist so here is chapter 6 - Tony and Abby visit the hospital. I won't be able to update as quickly now, because I haven't written the next chapter yet, but I'm gonna try and get my assignments out of the way this weekend so I can write some more :) So, sometime this week, I promise I will update :) Thanks for reading, and to everyone who reviewed!!! I love to hear what you think._

_A/N: This chapter has some medical stuff in it. And I know absolutely nothing about medicine or the internal workings of the humble knee. So please forgive me if its completely outrageous (which it probably is)... can I plead poetic licence?_

**Chapter Six**

"Abs, I'm telling you, this really isn't necessary."

"Tony, you heard Ducky. I'm not letting you walk on that leg! Now get in." Abby said forcefully, pushing the wheelchair closer.

"This is so embarrassing," Tony grumbled as he climbed in, Abby wheeling him into the Accident and Emergency waiting room. It was relatively quiet, so the pair didn't have to wait long to be seen.

"Agent DiNozzo," the doctor said, recognizing Tony's name from the paperwork. "We have to stop meeting like this!"

Tony returned his smile with a charming grin, followed by a grunt as he pulled himself from the chair to the examination table. "Doctor West. Always a pleasure."

Dr West shook his head. "What have you done this time, Tony?"

"It's nothing," Tony said with a casual wave. "I'm just stiff. She's overreacting." He pointed an accusing finger at Abby, who pouted in response.

"He can barely walk, Doc. He's just too big a jerk to admit it hurts."

"That doesn't sound like Tony, does it now," the doctor winked at Abby.

"You two have met before?" Abby wondered, taking her place next to Tony on the bed.

"This makes three times, I think." Tony said.

"Four," Dr West corrected. "First was that knife wound, must've been almost five years ago."

"Twelve stitches," Tony said, running his hand over the barely visible scar on his forearm. "And after that, you treated me for a sprained wrist."

"Dumpster diving gone wrong, if I recall correctly. And, most recently, was for suspected concussion after an undercover operation gone wrong."

Tony nodded. "The assassin couple. Me and Ziva. That was fun…" he smiled at Abby. "…until the whole tied-up-beating thing, anyway."

"You, my friend, are a super-magnet for trouble," Abby said, tousling his hair.

"What worries me more is that I'm not the only doctor who's seen Tony since he's worked for NCIS," Dr West said, flicking through the considerably dense file. "A total of eleven visits in the past five years, and that's just to this hospital. Tony, you really need to take better care of yourself."

Abby laughed. "You'll have better luck talking to a brick wall, Doc."

"You still haven't answered my question, Tony. What did you do this time?" The doctor squatted, brushing away the tatters of Tony's jeans to get a better look at his knee.

"I ah…tackled a guy running up a hill?" Tony offered meekly.

"And, you ignored the pain and decided it would be a good idea to do some close contact fighting with a trained Mossad agent and another highly trained federal agent." Abby added a little forcefully.

"You mean McGee? C'mon Abs, like you would've expected him to have a kick like that in him?" Tony argued. "I mean, he was too timid to even OWW!" His face scrunched up in pain as Dr West applied pressure to the side of his knee.

"Well, surely that reaction is enough to convince you this is serious," Dr West said from his position on the floor. Both his hands were placed on Tony's right knee as he examined the swelling. Tony bit his lip, embarrassed at his outcry. He let out a hiss of pain as the doctor touched a particularly sensitive spot.

"I read in your file that you injured your knee three years ago _falling out of a plane_," Dr West said, standing upright with a stretch. "I've only got your recent history here, anything else I should know?"

"Ah… a knee reconstruction?" Tony offered, shifting on the bed. Dr West shook his head in exasperation. "Hey, it was fifteen years ago. I didn't know it was that important."

"Well then, based on your previous history of injury to this particular knee, Tony, it is possible that it looks worse than it is. The excessive swelling could just be because the previous stresses have weakened it. The deep grazes certainly don't help the appearance. However, I'm not taking any chances. I'm ordering an x-ray. A nurse'll be in in a couple of minutes to take you up."

"Wait a minute-" Tony protested, leaning forward on the bed before Abby held him back. Dr West was used to Tony's stubbornness, turning instead to Abby. "Keep him still. I'll be back once the films come through."

Forty-five minutes later, Tony and Abby were back in the examination room waiting for the results. Sitting together on the bed, Tony was dozing, his head resting on Abby's shoulder. Abby guessed he hadn't had a lot of sleep last night with his knee. She was amusing herself playing Tetris on Tony's phone. Finally, the door swung open and Dr West strode in, clipping the x-rays to the screen on the wall. Tony sat up, trying to look a little composed despite his ruffled hair.

"Sorry for the wait, guys. I got talking to your friend Dr Mallard and, well, the man isn't easy to hang up on." Dr West explained.

"I hear you, Doc. So what's the prognosis?" Tony yawned, earning a look of concern from his friend. _Did he gotten any sleep at all last night? _Abby wondered, examining the fine lines of pain around his eyes and mouth that she'd overlooked earlier.

"Nothing in the x-rays," Dr West answered, switching off the screen. "But based on the swelling, it appears you've torn a ligament."

"How bad?" Tony asked with a grimace. He'd hoped like hell he wouldn't have to go through knee reconstruction surgery, then the intensive physical therapy that followed ever again. "Last time this happened it killed my dreams of major league basketball." Hopefully this time it wouldn't kill his dreams of a long career as an NCIS field agent. An active one, at least.

To Tony's immense relief, hints of a smile appeared on the doctor's face. "Not too bad, Tony. Compared to what it could be, I mean." He quickly corrected himself, knowing if he didn't the man would probably want to walk out of the room. "But as injuries go, it is considerable. You're going to need to give the knee time to heal." He continued, ignoring the fast-fading smile on Tony's face. "I don't want you walking on it for at least a month."

"Wha-" Tony's jaw hung open.

"We'll fit you for some crutches. And no, Tony, there's no way out of this. I've already spoken to Dr Mallard and he assures me that everyone at NCIS will assist me in ensuring you do not walk on that leg."

Tony's eyes were wide. Abby gently reached up, shutting his mouth. Cleaning Tony's grazes with anstiseptic, Dr West wrapped them both, fitting a soft brace around his knee.

"I'm serious here, Tony. I know you've ignored my advice every other time, but you need to listen to me. You know what a knee-reconstruction is like. Its not fun. So while crutches may be inconvenient, annoying and not exactly fashionable, they're important. Stay. Off. The. Knee." He held Tony's jaw in his hand, making sure the man was listening.

Tony grinned, giving him a sloppy salute.

"He will." Abby promised. "He'll have you, me, Ducky and Gibbs to answer to if he doesn't!"

"Good," Dr West nodded. "I've got another patient to get to, but a nurse will be in to fit you for crutches and to give you a tetanus booster. Never pays to be careful," He handed Abby a slip of paper. "Prescription for some painkillers. He'll refuse to take them, but trust me, he'll change his mind. "

"Thanks Doc," Tony said as he left. He turned to Abby who was putting the paper in her handbag.

"This bites."

_what did ya think? reviews really do make me write faster :P _


	7. Chapter 7

_can i just say, thank you so much for the reviews! i'm overwhelmed by how nice everyone is here! talk about inspiring... so heres the next chapter :) Hope you like, please tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!_

**Chapter Seven**

Abby slipped back into the examination room just as the nurse was leaving.

"Just talked to McGee. They're still out at the crime scene, likely to stay there for at least another few hours. Add on the hour to drive home, and we've got the most of the day to ourselves."

"Sweet." Tony hopped off the bed, testing out his newly-fitted crutches. "How do I look?"

"Need a few racing stripes, maybe some skull and crossbone stickers, but apart from that, gorgeous." Abby smiled, holding the door open for him. He followed her out, a little wobbly.

"Been a while since I used crutches. Guess I gotta get used to them again."

"Well, Tony, you've got a month to practice. I'm sure you'll break them in again." Abby grinned, waiting for him to catch up. They stopped outside of the hospital. "Now wait here. I'll bring the car around."

"Nah, don't bother Abs. I'll come with." Tony tilted his head, urging her forward.

"No way." Abby planted her hand on his shoulder, pushing him back onto the bench. Tony sat with a resigned sigh, taking out his cell phone to play a little Tetris while he waited. The phone rang in his hands, just as he was about to beat the high score.

"Damn," he muttered, exiting the game to take the call. "DiNozzo."

"Its Gibbs. You tore a ligament in your knee?"

"Ah…. yes?"

"And you didn't say anything? Why the hell not, DiNozzo? You thought you'd just keep walking around on it?"

Tony didn't have an answer for that one, so he said nothing.

"You still breathing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs sounded annoyed.

"Yes boss."

"Well good. This crime scene's gonna take most of the day, so you might as well go home. Take Abby with you, nothing for her to do until we get back. I expect you at your desk 0700 tomorrow."

"Got it, boss."

"Oh, and Tony? I already spoke to Ducky. If I see you walking on that leg, you're going to be on desk duty for the rest of the year."

Damn. Desk duty for a month alone was going to be torture. "Okay then."

Gibbs didn't reply, choosing instead to hang up. Tony tapped his chin with the phone, wondering how he could get around the mandatory month on crutches. Abby interrupted his thoughts, tooting the horn. Tony glanced up. She was right in front of him, blocking the traffic with her hearse. With a grin, Tony pulled himself up, settling the crutches under his arm.

He got into the front seat of Abby's car, shoving the crutches into the backseat.

"Gibbs says we've got the day off."

"Yes!" Abby pumped her fist, swerving a little on the road. "So… your house or mine?"

"Mine's closer." Tony replied, thinking that if they were going to spend the day watching DVDs, they might as well do it on his plasma screen.

"Your wish is my command." Abby swung the car into a U-turn, blocking all the lanes of traffic in the process.

"Gibbs teach you how to drive?" Tony teased, grabbing the door so he didn't fall into Abby's lap.

She just grinned wickedly, pushing down on the accelerator.

Several hair-raising minutes later, they pulled up in front of Tony's apartment block. Abby steered the car around the back, parking in Tony's spot, since his Mustang was still at the office.

"I take it back," Tony said, leaning on the car and pulling the crutches out. "Ziva must've taught you how to drive."

Abby laughed, flouncing ahead of him, her oversized bag swinging from her shoulder.

"Are you purposely mocking me with your skipping?" Tony called, hopping after her.

"Could be, Tony." She called back, slowing down as she reached the elevator. The she stopped. Tony caught up, saw the frown growing on her face as she read the sign pinned to the elevator.

LIFT CLOSED FOR REPAIRS

"That wasn't there this morning. Guess we'll have to take the stairs," Tony shrugged, turning towards the stairwell.

"Oh no you don't." Abby used her body as a roadblock, standing in front of the stairs. "No way I'm going to let you hobble up eight flights of stairs to your apartment! Ducky would kill me if he found out! Not to mention Gibbs…."

Making up her mind, Abby turned Tony back to the car park. "Guess you're staying with me tonight. You've still got the clothes you left last time anyway."

Thankfully, Abby's lift was fully functional, although she only lived on the second floor of the building. Abby insisted he take the main bedroom, preferring to sleep in her coffin in the middle of the living room.

"Oh! I forgot to pick up your prescription!" Abby pulled the piece of paper out of her bag, Gibbs-slapping herself for her forgetfulness.

"Don't bother, Abs. My knee's fine. Doesn't even hurt. I don't need painkillers." Tony called from the lounge, where he was flicking through the channels.

Abby smirked. "Not now, you don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Umm….. well maybe the tetanus shot the nurse gave you wasn't just a tetanus shot?"

"Abby?" Tony twisted his head around to look at her.

"Ummm… we may have spiked it with… a little morphine?" Abby knew how Tony felt about painkillers, but she also knew how stubborn he was when it came to admitting to pain.

"Abs! You know morphine isn't just a painkiller, its also a sedative!" Tony was beginning to feel sleepy already. It wasn't too often he got the day off, and he didn't really want to spend it asleep.

"Yeah, Dr West said it'd take a little longer to kick in because of the tetanus. He didn't want you exerting yourself."

"So he drugged me?" Tony frowned, trying not to yawn. "Doctors…."

Abby darted over, pulling him back on the couch and putting her 'Night Before Christmas' cushion behind his head. She grabbed another cushion, using it to prop his leg up.

"It's for your own good, Tony. Now you stay here and watch TV, I'm going to duck out and get the prescription. You better not have moved when I come back, or I won't give you any ice-cream tonight."

She kissed him on the cheek, heading out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for the reviews! I really love reading them :) Hugs to you all! So here's some more..._

**Chapter Eight**

At 6:55 am the next morning, Tony and Abby pulled into the NCIS carpark. Abby grabbed the crutches, handing them to Tony and headed for the entrance. Tony was dressed in a light green button up shirt and faded blue jeans, loose enough to fit his knee brace underneath. Abby was in her usual attire, short red and black checkered miniskirt and tight black t-shirt, with the usual scattering of chokers and cuffs.

Abby turned back, and saw Tony lagging a little behind.

"C'mon Tony," she called, walking backwards. "You're not still angry with me for drugging you, are ya?"

"Angry about the first time? No." Tony responded, slightly crankily. "The second time, yeah, a little. Crushing up painkillers and putting them in my ice-cream, Abs?"

"Well you refused to take them!" Abby replied, crossing her arms and standing still, waiting for Tony to catch up. "You were lucky to get any ice-cream at all. I told you not to move, and then I come home and find you going through my DVD collection."

"You told me to watch TV! I don't think that's fair cause for slipping me sedatives!"

"I think it is, Tony, when I keep my DVDs in the bedroom at the other end of the house, and you didn't even use your crutches to get there."

Tony finally arrived at where Abby was standing, so she started walking again. It took several minutes, but they made it to the entrance of NCIS. The metal detector went off twice as they walked through it, once for Abby's jewellery, and another time for the crutches. Mike the security guard waved Abby through, not wanting to wait the 10 minutes it would take for her to remove all her jewellery, but he gave Tony the token wave of the hand-held detector before letting him through too.

"Oh, come on. This must be a joke."

"What's a joke, Abs?" Tony asked, hopping to catch up. Abby pointed the lift. A white sign was stuck to the door.

**CLOSED FOR EMERGENCY MAINTENANCE.**

"Yeah, they were just doing the yearly safety check, apparently the brake cables have been worn dangerously thin," Mike said, coming to stand behind them. "The techs couldn't explain it, its almost as if somebody's been pressing the emergency brake button quite frequently.

Abby and Tony stifled a laugh. "Guess we have to take the stairs this time, Abs." Tony said, heading for the stairwell. "Unless you wanna take today off as well?"

"Love to, Tony, but evidence won't process itself, ya know? I've got a huge backlog to work on now, all the evidence from Gibbs' case yesterday." She held the door open for him and he hopped towards the stairs.

"It's only three floors," Tony said confidently. "What could go wrong?"

OOOOO

Twenty minutes later, the door on the third floor opened, and Abby walked out, carrying several pieces of wood in her hand.

"Hey Abby," McGee said, looking up as Abby stood in the middle of the bullpen. McGee wondered why she was late, but didn't say anything.

"Hey McGee, Gibbs, Ziva." she replied merrily.

Gibbs glanced up from his desk at her, saying nothing. She'd come to work carrying far stranger things than pieces of wood before. A minute later, the door to the staircase swung open again, and Tony hobbled out on one crutch, cursing under his breath.

"There you are!" Abby said with a grin.

"You could've waited!" Tony scowled, leaning on the front of his desk.

"You're late, DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, not looking up from his pile of papers.

"Uh Tony, you do know you're bleeding," McGee added.

"And your pants have a hole in them," Ziva observed, pointing to the left leg of his jeans.

"Damn! That's the third pair this week!"

"DiNozzo, where's your other crutch?" Gibbs growled as he finally looked up. "And, why are you late, bleeding and wearing ripped clothes?"

Tony grinned almost sheepishly. "Well, to answer your first question, my other crutch is there." He pointed to the pile of splintered wood in Abby's hands. "And to answer the other three questions, I may have fallen down the stairs."

Gibbs just shook his head in disbelief. "Why were you taking the stairs, DiNozzo?"

"Lift was broken, boss. Apparently someone's been overusing the emergency brake." Tony smirked, waiting for the obligatory Gibbs-slap to follow. It didn't. Gibbs remained where he was, his eyebrow quirked.

"DiNozzo, sit down before you manage to hurt yourself again. McGee, give Ducky a call. Ask him to come check out DiNozzo, _again_."

"Don't need it, boss. I didn't hurt my leg when I fell," Tony said, sitting down at his desk.

"It's true, Gibbs. He fell on his head," Abby ruffled Tony's hair for good measure.

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Abs. Don't you have evidence to run?" Gibbs returned to the pile of paperwork on his desk.

"Yep. See ya!" Abby dumped the remains of the crutch in front of Tony, heading back to the staircase.

"Uh.. boss, do you still want me to call Ducky?" McGee held the phone in his hand. Gibbs cast a scrutinizing look at Tony.

"No. But DiNozzo, you're not moving from behind that desk all day, you got it?"

"Loud and clear."

The team remained in the bullpen for the next two hours, running the credit, phone and vehicle records of the victim from the case. The relatively silent was broken by Gibbs' ringing telephone.

"Gibbs." He answered gruffly. "…..mhmmmm….okay, where are they?...thanks Abs." He put the phone down, turning his attention to Tony. "DiNozzo, its time for your meds."

Tony looked up from his computer screen, a little startled. "What? Nah, I don't need them boss."

Gibbs' eyebrow twitched. He stood up, grabbing Tony's backpack and shaking it upside down. The small white prescription bottle fell out, amongst the rain of pens, coins, CDs, magazines, chocolate bars and other miscellaneous objects. Gibbs plucked out the bottle, placing it in front of Tony.

"Two with water." He ordered.

"No, boss, I really don't want to. They make me sleepy."

"Wasn't a suggestion, DiNozzo. Two with water." Gibbs gave Tony his famous stare, knowing full well the younger agent was powerless to disobey. Tony sighed, shaking out two pills into his hand. He reached for his crutch, pulling himself up.

"Going to get a drink boss."

Gibbs wasn't that stupid, following Tony to the staff common room to make sure he didn't throw the pills out. Not that he expected Tony to disobey a direct order. Tony filled a glass with water, throwing back the pills with a scowl.

"Good," Gibbs nodded. "Now get back to work."

TBC

_Thanks for reading! Please stay tuned...Tony's not getting off that easily! _


	9. Chapter 9

_This story gets more ridiculous with every chapter. This one is no exception. Thanks everyone for reading, and for the reviews :) Hope you like - its a bit longer, just for The Swordsman :) All ya gotta do is ask!_

**Chapter Nine**

"You better not be sleeping DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, coming down the stairs from MTAC. He knew his agent was injured and tired, but all that could wait when their killer was still out there.

Tony lifted his head from the file he'd been using as a pillow, trying to flatten his sleep-ruffled hair. "No boss. Just….reading."

Gibbs snorted. Tony's cheek was smeared with ink. "Right." He sat down in his chair, pausing a few seconds before shouting "MCGEE!"

McGee jumped, startled out of his computer-induced trance. "Yes boss."

"What you got?"

Tony tuned out as McGee began spouting his usual geek-talk. Cursing Gibbs under his breath for making him take the dreaded pain-pill, he pinched himself, trying to stay awake.

"Always knew you were a light-mass," Ziva said quietly from across the bullpen.

Tony gave her a dirty look. "It's light-weight, Ziva, and I'm not."

"Mhmmm. One painkiller and you're out like a torch."

"Out like a light, Zee-vah, and would you stop?" Tony wasn't in the mood. He pulled himself out of a chair just to prove he wasn't tired, reaching for the crutch.

"Where you going, DiNozzo?"

"Head, boss."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, c'mon. Its not like I need someone to hold my hand, Gibbs. I hurt my knee, not my head."

Gibbs wasn't convinced, but his stare softened a little. "3 minutes. If you're not back, I'm sending Ziva in to check on you."

Tony almost tripped over his feet in his rush to get back, but he made it. Ziva looked a little disappointed.

The case picked up, and soon Ziva, McGee and Gibbs left to talk to another suspect. Tony was ordered to stay behind, but he was secretly glad, firstly because he was still shaky on two crutches, let alone one, and secondly because with Gibbs out of the office, it gave him a chance to hide the painkillers. Down the toilet.

Pleased with his efforts, he sat back down at his desk, booting up the ol' Shoot Osama computer game since Gibbs had left no work to do. Pretty soon, he glanced at the clock. It was time for him to take the next round of drugs. Pity that both Gibbs and the pills were nowhere to be found.

No such luck. A second later, the doors of the now-operational lift opened and Gibbs strolled out, coffee in hand, followed by Ziva and McGee who were leading a man in cuffs.

"Put him in interrogation," Gibbs told McGee. Ziva took her seat. Gibbs turned his attention to Tony. "Abby called again. You take your meds?"

Tony grinned.

"Why do I even bother asking?" Gibbs muttered to himself, walking over to Tony's desk to grab the pills. "…..DiNozzo?"

"Oh dear…. Someone must've taken them." Tony said blankly. He got an extra-hard slap.

"Lucky for you, Abby brought spares," Gibbs said with a hint of a smile. "Go see her now. No detours. Ziva, go with him, make sure he swallows them."

"My pleasure, Gibbs," Ziva said, smiling as she stood up and followed Tony into the lift. Tony shot Gibbs a dark look before the doors shut.

Inside the lift, Tony stood in front of Ziva, leaning against the side wall. He silenced a grunt as the throbbing in his knee made itself felt. Didn't do anything to change his resolve – he wasn't taking any more pills. The lift announced its arrival on Abby's floor with a cheery DING and the doors slid open.

Tony stopped, standing before the open doors. What followed was chain-reaction of moments culminating in one extremely unfortunate event.

Tony paused. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of being force-fed sedatives by an Israeli spy and an over-excited Gothic lab tech dressed in spikes.

"Planning on moving, Tony?" Ziva teased. She gave him a gentle shove forward. At the same time, Tony took a step, momentarily forgetting that he was favouring his right leg. He stepped down on his swollen, strapped and extremely sore leg and it buckled under him just as Ziva pushed him forward. To his falling body, Ziva's playful push only increased his momentum downward. The crutch caught on the gap between the lift and the floor, and Tony's whole body slipped from under him. The end result? Tony's head slammed hard into the metal runner of the lift doors, his body going limp on the floor.

Abby heard the bang, the noise produced by the contact between Tony's skull and the metal, running out of her lab. In fact, Ziva would've been surprised if everyone in the building hadn't heard that noise.

"Tony!" Ziva squatted over his body, her eyes filled with concern.

She turned his head. A thin trickle of blood ran down from his scalp. Abby froze, seeing her best friend lying prone on the ground.

"Abby, call Ducky." Ziva told her. Abby nodded numbly, spinning on her heel and running back to the lab. Ziva gently pulled Tony's body out from the elevator, propping him up against the wall.

"Tony?" She touched his cheek gently.

He groaned, stirring a little. Gradually he came to, blinking his eyes before they focused on Ziva. "God." His hand went straight to his head and he winced, shifting so he was sitting upright. "My head's all sticky." He removed his hand, wrinkling his nose at the blood coating the tips of his fingers.

"Oh Tony," Abby sat beside him on the floor, wrapping her arms around his neck. She peered at the wound on his head, chewing on her bottom lip. "Ducky's on his way. And Gibbs."

"Oh man, Gibbs is gonna kill me," Tony said with a grimace.

"That right, DiNozzo?" Gibbs stood, arms crossed. Tony blinked at him. He hadn't even heard the lift doors open. Ducky emerged, standing beside Gibbs. Must've been in autopsy together.

"Dear boy, what happened now?" Ducky knelt down, brushing apart Tony's hair.

"I…slipped?"

"He hit his head on the metal," Ziva answered. "Knocked him out for about a minute."

Gibbs shook his head. "Only you, Tony. What do you think, Duck?"

"Quite a nasty bump on the head, Jethro. The bleeding is mostly superficial, although I would like to put a few stitches in the wound. Follow my finger, Tony." Ducky moved his finger left and right. Tony squinted, trying to keep up with the gloved finger. It was a little blurry.

"You have a concussion, Anthony. Not too severe, although you'll have quite the headache for the next day or so. Do you think you can stand?"

"Sure. Why not." Tony held out his hands. Ziva and Abby each took one, pulling him to his feet. Balancing on one foot, Tony swayed a little. Gibbs' hand held him steady as Abby passed the crutch. It looked a little worse for wear.

"Come, Tony, lets get you fixed up," Ducky said, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder to guide him back into the lift. Gibbs followed them in.

"Abby, Ziva, McGee, get back to work." He ordered. They nodded, all heading into Abby's lab.

Tony winced as he felt Ducky's needle pierce his scalp. The area around the wound had been numbed, but he could still feel the prick and the friction between the thread and his skin.

"Hold still, Tony. A couple more." Ducky said from above him. Tony closed his eyes against the bright lights of Autopsy. The bump on the head had made him sleepy. At least in the commotion, the painkillers for his knee had been forgotten. Although Tony was beginning to wish they hadn't been. The throbbing in his head, coupled with the dull ache in his knee was beginning to magnify. Aware of his concussion, Ducky was wary of giving him anything stronger than aspirin.

Ducky finished, cutting the thread. He placed a bandage over the top, wrapping thick white gauze around Tony's head to keep it in place. "Now Tony, I know the first thing you probably want to do is have a shower, but you need to keep this dry. I'll take out the stitches in one week. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest. And you of all people should know the concussion drill, somebody will have to wake you up every two hours."

"I'll do it, Duck."

Tony had forgotten Gibbs had come down with them. He turned his head, squinting at his boss. "Thanks…"

"C'mon DiNozzo, I'll drive you home."

Tony slipped off the metal table, thanking Ducky and taking the proffered crutch. As they were heading toward the parking garage, Tony remembered something.

"Ah…boss, I don't have a spare room."

Gibbs turned his head, eyebrow quirked. "I know, DiNozzo. You're coming home with me."


	10. Chapter 10

_thank you thank you thank you everyone who reviewed! really brightens my day :) so wow, we're up to chapter 10 of this silly little story already. hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Ten**

"DiNozzo! Wake up!"

Tony jolted awake. It took a second for him to realize where he was. In the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. He was impressed he'd managed to sleep with Gibbs at the wheel. The hit to the head must've been harder than he realized.

Gibbs pushed open the door to his house. He never bothered locking it, apart from the skeleton of a boat, there was nothing he considered worthy of stealing. He held back the wooden door as Tony limped through and sat down on the couch with a slight grimace.

"You want a drink?" Gibbs asked.

"Sure," Tony said wearily. Gibbs nodded, heading to the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water for Tony and a bottle of bourbon for himself.

"Bourbon?" Gibbs offered the bottle.

Tony shook his head, grimacing at the wave of nausea brought on by the small action. "I feel like crap already, boss. Don't need a hole in my stomach lining as well." He managed a smile. Gibbs couldn't hit him when he had a concussion.

Gibbs shrugged, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a swig. He recapped it, placing it on the coffee table. "Got some leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

Tony scrunched his nose. "Don't really feel like eating, boss. I thought I'd-"

"Second door on the right," Gibbs said, anticipating his words. He could see how tired his agent was, the fine lines of pain and fatigue showing on his face. Tony smiled, a warm smile. It wasn't as bright as usual, but it was a smile nonetheless.

Tony leaned back on the couch, stifling a yawn. The second door was so far away, and while the couch wasn't the most comfortable he'd sat on….

"Do I have to carry you, DiNozzo?"

Tony couldn't decide if he was serious or not. He was tempted to take Gibbs up on the offer, but decided it wasn't worth the embarrassment if McGee or Ziva found out his boss had carried him to bed. He stood with a groan, grabbing the crutch. Gibbs made a mental note to accrue a new set of crutches the next day. It wasn't doing his knee any good hobbling around on one crutch.

"Night boss. And…thanks." Tony said quietly before he shut the bedroom door behind him. Gibbs acknowledged him with a nod, checking his watch. Two hours until he had to wake Tony up for the concussion check. Two hours to kill….. Gibbs stood up, heading to the basement and his boat.

Tony eased himself onto the bed in the spare room. Wasn't his first time staying there. Gibbs had begun a habit of bringing him home lately when he'd been injured. It started with the plague, Gibbs had made him stay a few days after his release from Bethesda. From there it became habit, Gibbs dragging him home to make sure he was looking after himself, although usually it was only after a visit to the hospital that Tony earned himself a stay at Gibbs' house. Abby usually came too, sometimes sharing the double bed in the spare room with him and other times choosing to sit and talk all night with Gibbs as he crafted his boat. They had strange bedtimes, those two.

With only a few soft curses, Tony maneuvered his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons. With a wistful look he threw it into the corner of the room. It was ruined, stained with the blood from both his fall down the stairs and his little accident in the elevator. No amount of bleach could salvage it now. He glanced down at his jeans. A large new rip ran from just above the knee to half-way down the shin. No longer office-worthy, but still wearable. Still, it seemed like to much effort to take them off. Even the thought of slipping them past his throbbing knee was too much to contemplate.

"Stupid knee. Stupid hill." Tony muttered under his breath, gently swinging his legs up onto the bed. It wasn't cold so he didn't bother with the sheets, shifting his body up the bed so his head was closer to the pillows. He had to grip the edge of the bed as the world spun before his eyes. "Stupid head. Stupid Probie. Stupid stairs." He clenched his eyes shut, wondering if his fatigue was enough to overpower the thumping within his skull. "Stupid crutches. Stupid Ziva. Stupid lift."

Tony wiggled a little, trying to find a position that aggravated neither his head or his knee. In the quiet of the house he could hear a rough grinding sound coming from below. From the sounds of it, Gibbs was sanding the boat. Tony smiled, his features relaxing as sleep finally overcame his battered body.

Gibbs glanced at his watch, wiping his face with an old towel. It was coming up on 11pm, almost time to wake Tony. He swallowed the last of his cold coffee, bringing the mug upstairs with him for a refill. He switched on the coffee machine, the kitchen filling with the sounds and smells of fresh coffee brewing. The smell alone made him feel awake, although it wasn't that late by anyone's standards. Coffee machine hard at work, Gibbs figured it was close enough to two hours. Time to wake up Tony.

He paused in the hallway as a retching sound reached his ears. Setting the steaming coffee mug down on the nearest flat surface, Gibbs tore into the room, slamming back the door. Tony was in the connecting bathroom, both rooms filled with darkness. Gibbs made out Tony's silhouette hunched over the toilet bowl, his body shaking as he heaved out his stomach contents.

"Tony?" Gibbs filled a glass with water as Tony seemed to finish. The younger man leaned back against the bathroom, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Yeah boss?" Tony's voice was raspy and tired.

Gibbs held out the glass. Tony took it, squinting into the darkness. He took a tentative sip before holding the cool glass against his forehead.

"Headache?"

"You could say that," Tony said, taking another sip of the water. He kept his eyes closed.

Gibbs mentally cursed himself for not paying more attention to his agent. Tony had admitted, freely admitted to him earlier that he wasn't feeling well. In the four years they'd worked together, Tony had been injured countless times, but it took a lot of pain for him to admit any weakness. Hell, he'd been kicked in the knee after pulling a ligament and hadn't said a word. In fact, the only time Gibbs could ever remember Tony admitting to pain, he'd barely escaped an explosion after coming back to work early from his pneumonic plague sick-leave. If that wasn't some sort of indicator that something was really wrong, Gibbs didn't know what was.

"C'mon, lets get you back to bed." Gibbs said softly. He placed his hands on Tony's shoulder's gently pulling the man upwards.

Tony winced at the movement, and he knew Gibbs had noticed. "S'okay boss. Just haven't been hit this hard in a while."

Gibbs didn't argue with that. He'd already talked to Abby about what happened, and from her description, it was no ordinary hit to the head. The 'trip' down the stairs couldn't have helped either.

"I'll give Ducky a call. There must be some painkiller you can take for the headache."

"Nah boss, its late. I'll be okay. I've had worse."

Gibbs didn't ask, but there was something about the way Tony said it that made him think he wasn't talking about one of his many NCIS work-related injuries. Gibbs filed that away for later.

"Just need sleep."

Gibbs didn't argue. He was practically carrying Tony to bed and he knew Tony'd be out like a light the moment he released him. He drew back the bed covers, helping Tony down.

"Thanks boss…" Tony murmered, eyes still closed.

"I'll be back in two hours, DiNozzo. You need help again, just yell out."

Tony's reply was incomprehensible, but Gibbs knew he understood.

_yeah, nothing too super-exciting this chapter...but more is to come, i promise :) _


	11. Chapter 11

_...and the craziness continues. With a little Ducky and Abby thrown in for good measure. Thanks for the reviews! please keep 'em coming :)_

_Be warned: I'm no doctor, I made all this up. Its just a story, so please don't worry if its not at all accurate..._

**Chapter Eleven**

"Hey Duck, I know it's late……oh yeah? Who's winning?" Gibbs chuckled softly over the phone. While Tony was of the opinion that vomiting and aversion to light was nothing to be concerned about, Gibbs wasn't letting it go that easily.

"……thanks Ducky, I appreciate it." Gibbs hung up the phone several minutes later, sitting back on the couch. A quarter of an hour later he heard a knock on the door. Gibbs was impressed that Ducky had arrived so fast, the usual trip was almost forty minutes. Maybe Ducky'd been taking note of his driving techniques after all. "Its open," he called.

The door swung open. "Hey Gibbs."

Gibbs looked up. Didn't sound like Ducky. Definitely didn't look like Ducky.

"Abs."

"How's my boy doing?" Abby tiptoed over to the couch, quite a feat in her platform boots. Gibbs frown was enough to worry her.

"Ducky's coming to check on him."

Abby studied his face. It could just be the less-than-adequate lighting of his living room, but the lines on Gibbs' face seemed deeper somehow.

"Why? Tony's probably just hamming it up again,"

"Abs, when has Tony ever 'hammed' it up without no-one to offer sympathy?" Gibbs stood up, striding quietly to the spare bedroom. Gibbs had left the door slightly ajar, not so much that the light would disturb Tony, but enough that he could hear if the man was in distress. He peeked through the opening. Tony was lying flat, face-up. He could hear his breathing from the door, but it was obvious Tony was sleeping very lightly.

"Careful, Abs," He whispered as Abby pushed past him. "Don't wake him yet."

Abby frowned at the limp figure on the bed, wanting very much to run over, jump on the bed and run her fingers through his hair to try and magically alleviate that headache. She'd tried it before, Tony seemed to like his head massages. Somehow, thought, she didn't think Gibbs would approve so she backed out, rejoining Gibbs on the lounge.

"Do you think its just the concussion? He doesn't look so good," Abby said, helping herself to the bottle of bourbon.

"Don't know. The symptoms all fit with a pretty bad concussion, but I've seen Tony hit before, its never affected him like this."

Abby swallowed, scowling at the fierce taste scalding her throat. "Really Gibbs, tequila is the way to go. Or vodka…" Her face grew serious again. "It could just be all the painkillers we've been forcing on him taking their toll. You know he doesn't willingly accept pain medication, says it makes him feel funny. Maybe the concussions just magnifying the funniness?"

"Funniness – there's a medical term if I ever heard one," A hushed but cheerful voice joined the conversation.

"Hey Duck. Thanks for coming," Gibbs nodded.

"Of course, Jethro."

"You're up late, Duckman." Abby embraced him in a hug.

"Well, Mother somehow came across a mud-wrestling marathon on television, and I couldn't bring myself to tear her away. As you well know, she's quite deaf so I do believe the whole neighbourhood now thinks we live in some sort of fetish house…." Ducky chuckled.

"Duck, can you take a look at Tony?"

"Why yes, yes indeed." Ducky stood up and followed Gibbs to the spare bedroom. "How long has he been asleep?"

"Bout 45 minutes. He fell asleep just before I rang you. Before that, he'd been sleeping for close to two hours, but I found him throwing up when I was coming to wake him."

"Anthony DiNozzo, what are we going to do with you," Ducky said softly, approaching the bed. Gibbs followed him, Abby trailing behind. Ducky placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, speaking softly.  
"Tony, its time to wake up. Tony?"

Tony groaned, frowning in his sleep.

"Tony? Hey Tony, buddy, time to wake up," Abby joined in.

Tony began to stir, his head twitching a little. He mumbled something as his eyes opened into slits. "Ducky?"

"Good evening – or should I say morning – Tony. How are you feeling?" Ducky said brightly, careful not to speak to loudly.

Tony squinted at him. "Like I fell down a flight of stairs and hit my head on the floor of the lift."

"How do you feel about sitting up?"

Tony made the slightest movement which seemed to be intended as a shrug. Abby came around the other side of the bed and she and Ducky helped Tony sit upright. Tony was still squinting, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.

"S'bright." He pointed to the crack of light coming through the open door.

"Well then, dear boy, I'm afraid you're not going to like what I'm about to do." Ducky took out a penlight, gently prying open Tony's eye and shining the beam of light in. Tony winced, trying to shake the light away.

"Pupil reaction is a little sluggish. That is to be expected. Now, any unusual pain? How's the nausea?"

"I won't throw up on you if that's what you're wondering. Kinda feels like my head's going to explode, though." Tony mumbled, his eyes now closed to ward of any more unwelcome light.

"Lie back, my boy. I'll go outside and see what I've got to help you." Ducky and Abby slid Tony back so he was lying flat again, and then Ducky and Gibbs left the room to raid the big black medical bag Ducky had brought.

"You doing okay, Tony?" Abby snuggled up beside him. She could feel the heat radiating from his forehead.

"Mmm," Tony wiggled so his face was resting against her shoulder. Abby sighed, pressing the cool skin of her hand up to his brow.

"What do you think, Duck?" Gibbs asked, switching on the kitchen light and filling a glass with water. They were far enough from the bedroom that the light wouldn't bother Tony.

"Considering the medications he's had in his system over the last few days, several varieties of painkillers, tetanus and the mild local anesthetic I gave him for the stitches, it is quite likely that everything is just catching up with him. Especially since he rarely if ever otherwise takes medication. Jethro, as a medical practitioner, my best suggestion would be to take Tony to a hospital for a scan. However, as a friend and Tony's doctor for the past few years, I think what we should do is let him sleep. For the night at least. I'll stay here tonight and we can keep a close eye on him. If he doesn't show improvement by daylight, we will unquestionably take him to the nearest hospital."

Ducky rummaged through his black medical bag. He pulled out a small white bottle. "In the mean time, he's in no fit state to move. These should help." Gibbs handed him the glass of water and Ducky retreated back to the darkened bedroom. Gibbs sat back on the edge of the couch, contemplating going back to the boat. He'd make Ducky take the main bedroom, and he knew from experience that he wouldn't see Abby again at least until morning.

Ducky's soft footsteps came into the room. "Worse than you, Jethro. A headache so blinding he can't see straight and he still tries to convince me that he doesn't need the paracetemol."

Gibbs chuckled. "I'm guessing Abby had something to say about that?"

"Oh yes. Quite a lot. She's offered to stay with him, although I think it was more of a statement than a question." Ducky's face became slightly more serious. "Probably a good thing….Gibbs, the medication I had to give Tony has some side-effects, and from what I've learnt, he's prone to nightmares, so I'd prefer he have some company."

Gibbs frowned. "He told you he has nightmares?"

"No, Abby mentioned it to me once. She's the only one he talks to. I'm sure he's in good hands with her by his side."

Gibbs nodded. "You take my room, Duck. I'll be in the basement if you need me."

Ducky yawned openly. "Thank you Jethro. I'm sure young Anthony will be feeling much better in a few hours time. Good night!"

The coffee mug caught Gibbs' eye as he was headed downstairs. Still on the bookshelf, where he'd left it. Almost gleefully, Gibbs grabbed it, sipping deeply. He scowled. It was cold.

_TBC_


	12. Chapter 12

_at long last...Chapter 12! Thanks everyone for your reviews - i'm really sorry that i don't reply to them all personally, life's been a bit crazy with school, but please know that I really really appreciate all of the lovely comments. This chapter is predominately some Tony-angst, so i plan to bring on the Tony-pain in chapter 13 :) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Twelve**

Ducky pushed open the bedroom door, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark. Through the crack in the curtains he could see the sun starting to peep over the hill. Ducky smiled fondly at the two young friends. Tony was lying flat on his back, face turned slightly to the right. Abby lay beside him on her front, an arm stretched across Tony's chest. Abby was a bright girl. With her arm across him, she could not only offer him comfort and warmth, but any movement on his part would wake her.

The floor creaked almost silently under Ducky's weight, but it was enough to alert Abby. She was a light sleeper, if indeed she'd slept at all. "Mornin Duck," she smiled, her jet black fringe sticking up at all angles.

"Did Tony sleep well last night?"

Abby nodded, sitting up at the top of the bed and drawing her knees to her chest. A hand rested on Tony's shoulder. "He woke a couple of times…. but he's okay."

There was something about the way Abby said the last sentence, she seemed altogether too reserved. It could just be the early hour, but Ducky decided not to push the point. She knew better than any doctor what was best for Tony, and Ducky trusted her to look after him.

"I'd like to wake him before I go, check how the concussion's treating him."

Abby nodded, placing a hand on each of Tony's shoulders. "Tony….Tony…..DiNozzo! Wake up!"

Tony twitched. "No need to yell Abs." He said softly after a few moments, his voice raspy. "What's up?"

"What day is it, Tony?" Ducky said gently, squatting beside his patient in the bed.

"Yesterday was Friday, which means today is Saturday." Tony said with a yawn, still lying flat on the bed.

Ducky nodded. "And the year?"

"2007."

"Director of NCIS?"

"Jenny Sheppard. Did I pass?"

"Indeed, my boy." Ducky smiled. "How are you feeling this fine morning?"

Tony paused momentarily. "Head hurts. But as long as you talk really really softly, I'll be alright."

"I do believe the concussion is wearing off, but as you know from experience, the head-ache will linger, unfortunately. Take another two of these," Ducky indicated toward the bottle sitting on the side table, speaking more to Abby than Tony, who looked like he'd fallen asleep again, his eyes shut. "and it should help. I'll fetch some more water." Ducky stood up, taking the glass with him.

Gibbs was in the kitchen when Ducky entered, standing impatiently beside the coffee machine. He greeted Ducky with a nod.

"Good morning Jethro." Ducky noted the stiffness of Gibbs' movements. It wasn't exactly a leap to guess that he'd spent the night in the basement. The coffee finally brewed, Gibbs pouring himself a cup and swallowing with relish. He pointed to the kettle beside the coffee machine, it was already heating water to make tea, Ducky's preferred drink.

Gibbs drained the cup, setting it down beside the sink. "I'm going for a run." He was already dressed in sweats, jogging shoes and a t-shirt. "Be back in thirty." He moved to leave but paused, turning back to Ducky. "Tell Abby and DiNozzo to get some sleep. They could use it." Then he left, leaving Ducky to ponder that last sentence.

He delivered the water to Abby before settling on the couch with a cup of tea. He wanted to talk to Gibbs before he returned home to Mother. Several minutes later Abby joined him, flattening down her spiky bed-hair as she tiptoed out of the spare bedroom.

"Nice work with the drugs Duck. He's out already," she grinned wickedly.

"Good. Now did you get any sleep last night, Abigail?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "I can sleep anytime, Duck. I can go more than four days straight without sleep, provided you keep the Caff-Pows coming."

Ducky took that as a no. "Vivid dreams can be a side-effect of some of the medications we've given Tony."

Abby shook her head. "Nah. Tony…….Tony has these nightmares, sometimes, usually after a tough case or when he's injured. They only come out when he's at his weakest, I guess. I like to keep him company, make sure he doesn't hurt himself, wake him up if its getting too intense. That's why I usually come around here when Tony gets himself injured."

"I see. Has – does Tony talk to anyone about these dreams?"

"He never tells me what they're about, but I can guess. They're never pleasant." Abby smiled grimly. "I don't know how much you know, or what Gibbs has told you, but Tony had a pretty rough childhood. His big brother committed suicide when Tony was fourteen. Mama and Papa DiNozzo blamed Tony for it. They were both alcoholics, Mum drank herself to death after Joe died. I think there's more to it, but Tony doesn't talk about it a lot. I only found out he had a brother because I got him drunk after the case with Jeffery White and he mentioned it." Abby sighed softly, twisting a strand of hair with one hand.

"Good lord. I had no idea."

"Tony's got a good mask, Duck. He rarely lets anyone see beyond it." Abby patted him softly on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go sit with him. Don't like leaving him alone when he's like this."

She stood up, returning to the spare bedroom and Ducky was left alone with his thoughts once more in the living room. He blinked as the front door swung open and Gibbs strode in, barely sweating. He went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, leaning on the edge of the table as he took a long drink. Gibbs frowned as he observed the serious expression on Ducky's face.

"Something wrong, Ducky?"

Ducky shook his head. "Abby was just telling me about Tony's brother."

"Ah." Gibbs wiped his forehead, sitting down in an armchair.

"You knew?"

Gibbs nodded. "At Kate's funeral, Tony mentioned something. He said Kate's death felt like he'd lost another sibling. Another being the keyword. Tony's always said he had no brothers or sisters, but after that I did some digging. Joe's death was pretty well hidden, wasn't in Tony's personnel files and it'd been crossed out of most of the public information of his family. I guess suicide isn't something a family like the DiNozzo's want to be associated with. Never spoke to Tony about Joe, though."

"I suppose we've always just appreciated Tony's positive spirits. I never once considered that it concealed something darker beneath." Ducky said soberly. "Were you aware of his nightmares?"

"Why do you think I bring him here every time he gets himself hurt?" Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at Ducky. "Tony's got some secrets he doesn't feel comfortable sharing with us, which is fair enough, but that's not the sort of stuff he should be left alone with."

Ducky stood up. "He's sleeping now, Abby's watching over him. He appears to be recovering, although he'll probably be sleeping it off for the rest of the weekend."

Gibbs nodded. He'd expected that, considering Tony's concussion.

"If it's okay, I should be heading off to check on Mother. I suspect the mud-wrestling marathon may be finished by now, thank the lord, but who knows what else she will find on television to watch."

"Sure, go Duck. Thanks for staying over."

"Of course, Jethro, you know it's no trouble. I'll see you on Monday, but don't hesitate to call if you need my services. Oh, and if Tony does feel up to moving around, make sure he uses the crutches. With his latest injury, he'll probably overlook the damage to his knee, but the last thing he needs is to make it worse."

"Will do, Ducky. See you Monday."

_TBC_


	13. Chapter 13

_thanks for reviewing! hope you enjoy :)_

**Chapter 13**

Tony heard Abby pad softly back into the bedroom, heard the bed creak as she sat down next to him. He kept his eyes closed, slowed his breathing so Abby wouldn't worry.

They'd been talking about him. That much he knew, he had sharper-than-average hearing and was able to pick up snippets of their whispered conversation over the pounding in his eardrums. Talking about his childhood, his parents, his brother…. The life Tony had tried so hard to escape.

He didn't know why Abby, Ducky and Gibbs always insisted on plying him with sedatives everytime he got hurt and even after some of their more taxing cases. Although, with the cases, it was usually a case of getting drunk with Abby, and then having her force-feed paracetemol to him as a 'preventative measure for the hangover.' When did he become so fragile that he needed to be drugged after every traumatic experience? They all figured he was just stubborn, just being tough when he refused to take medication, choosing instead to force it upon him. They couldn't know that it was medication of any kind, sedatives, anti-biotics but especially painkillers that triggered the dreams. He didn't understand it, but guessed it was some psychological reflex, an unwanted reminder of his childhood.

That was a part of his life he would never feel comfortable discussing. He'd mentioned parts of his childhood to Abby, she was the only person he'd ever told about Joe. And other pieces he knew she'd pieced together herself. Wasn't really that complicated; a simple Google search of the name DiNozzo would bring up thousands of references to his father. Abby was a genius, more than capable of putting two and two together and figuring out more.

And Gibbs – well Tony knew Gibbs had run a background check on him when he first joined NCIS. None of this information was in his files, but Gibbs was thorough. He would've had a P.I. dig a little deeper. Gibbs knew, Tony was sure. He'd never said anything, but Gibbs always knew.

That left Ducky – Ducky knew all sorts of things, his aversion to hospitals, painkillers and admitting weakness in general. As his personal physician, Ducky had also seen the scattered marks on Tony's body. He'd never asked, never said anything about them, but the old doctor was intelligent and often much more insightful then he let on.

He shifted his head, grimacing at the headache building behind his eyes. Abby ran her fingers lightly across his forehead, muttering something to soothe him. Tony wished she would get some sleep. He was perpetually impressed by her dedication to him, she loved him unconditionally. But sitting beside him all day wouldn't do her any good, and it made sense for at least one of them to get some sleep.

The pain-killers were powerful. Tony could feel them taking over, slowly pulling his mind and body to sleep. He couldn't resist for much longer. He hated the lack of control he had over his body. And he knew what would happen when he couldn't fight the urge to sleep any more.

"Sleep, Tony boy." Abby mumbled, stroking her friend's hair as she heard his breathing deepen and his face relaxed slightly. "I'm looking out for you."

Tony's lips moved, but he made no sound as the drugs finally took over.

_Tony walked into his bedroom, dumping a sports bag and a basketball in the corner of the room. He went back out into the hallway, knocking on the door directly opposite his. It was painted black and covered with posters and stickers. _

"_Hey Joe. Joey! Dinner's ready. Joe?" When his brother didn't respond, Tony pounded the door a little harder. It creaked open. Tony's eyes widened. In all of the time he'd known his older brother, his bedroom door was never unlocked. Never. Ignoring his growing apprehension, Tony pushed the door further open, walking inside. The inside of Joe's room was also black, plastered with posters of heavy metal bands and girls in bikinis. _

"_Joe? You in here?" Tony walked around the bed, coming to the bathroom attached to his brother's room. This time the door was locked. _

"_Joe!" Still no answer. Biting his lip and hoping he wasn't about to walk in on his brother getting high, Tony took his foot to the door, kicking it open. _

"_Joe!" Joe was slumped in the empty bathtub. Tony ran to his side, feeling his throat for a pulse. Joe still held an empty bottle in his hand. Tony picked it up. Prescription painkillers. The prescription was in his mother's name. Fumbling, Tony searched for the phone. It was in his brother's bedroom, buried under a stack of schoolbooks. Tony dialed 911, and then returned to Joe, calling for his mother. _

_The paramedics came. His mother didn't. Tony found her later, passed out on a lounge in the sitting room. It didn't matter. Joe was dead. After they took his body, Tony found the note. It was on Joe's pillow._

_**I can't do this anymore.**_

_**I love you Mama and Papa.**_

**_I'm sorry I'm not like him._**

Tony bolted upright, eyes searching the dark room. It took a moment before he realised that he wasn't 14, he wasn't in his brothers room. Gibbs' room. Gibbs' house.

"Shit," Tony mumbled under his breath, trying to slow his erratic heartbeat. He wiped the film of sweat from his forehead, pulling back the sheets.

"Tony?" Abby walked out of the bathroom, quickly shutting off the harsh light. Her face was damp. "You okay?" She stared at him, scrutinizing his flushed face and the slight tremble of his fingers as he ran them through his hair.

Tony nodded numbly, squinting around for his crutch.

"Oh, here." Abby opened the closet, handing him a pair of crutches. "Brought you some new ones. They're metal, so unless you somehow trip over a welder while it's switched on, you should be right."

"Thanks." Tony smiled weakly, pulling himself to his feet. He was glad to have two crutches again, an extra anchor to keep him standing as the world swam a little.

"Where ya going?" Abby stood beside him, ready to catch him if he fell.

"Anywhere. Don't wanna sleep anymore." Tony mumbled, taking a tentative step forward. His knee felt as if it was twice as swollen as before. He guessed he'd hit it when he took a dive in the lift.

"Ducky left a couple hours ago. But we can go visit Gibbs," Abby smiled, holding the bedroom door back for him.

It was well and truly morning and even with the thin white curtains of Gibbs' living room pulled shut, the sun still shone through brightly. They could hear a rustling sound in the kitchen.

"Hey Gibbs," Abby called out cheerily. Gibbs popped his head out of the kitchen, steaming coffee in hand.

"Hey Abs, Tony."

Tony nodded, sitting in the middle of the couch.

"Coffee?" Gibbs held out the mug to Abby.

"Thanks but no thanks, bossman. I'd like to keep my tastebuds," she grinned playfully, pushing past him to the kitchen. She knew better than to offer Tony anything, he rarely consumed anything other than water when he had a concussion, and he never ate anything after a nightmare. It worried her that it'd happened enough times for her to know this so well.

She returned with a can of Coke for herself and a glass of water for Tony. He took it without a word and she sat down beside him on the couch, Gibbs taking the armchair.

"How you feeling Tony?" Gibbs asked, his eyes fixed on the pale agent sitting across from him.

Tony wrinkled his nose, scratching idly at the bandage on his head. "Okay…?"

"Head still hurt? Because Ducky said you could take some more of those pills."

"NO." Tony said, coming out a little harsher than he'd intended. He didn't care how much his head was killing him, it was better than reliving that day again. "No painkillers."

_TBC_


	14. Chapter 14

_Thanks for reviewing (special thanks to donutsweeper_ _for picking up on that mistake)! This chapter is pretty much all backstory, hope the flash-backs aren't too annoying. Ch15 will be in the present, I promise. Enjoy!!!_

**Chapter Fourteen**

"I'm going back to bed." Tony stood up, maneuvering his way back to the bedroom. He couldn't decide what was worse – the dreams he knew he'd face if he slept or the sharp, growing pain biting into his skull with every movement. But finally, after ten minutes of daylight sitting in Gibbs' living room, he couldn't take it any longer, retreating to the cool darkness of the spare bedroom.

"I'm fine Abs," he muttered, knowing the Goth would follow him regardless of her own hunger or fatigue. He closed the door, breathing with relief as the silent darkness embraced him. He moved gingerly, setting down the metal crutches without too much clatter and pulling his tender knee up onto the bed. Wearied by the exhertion, he closed his eyes, pulling the thin top sheet up to his neck and gripping it tightly. He knew what was coming.

"_You did this."_

_Tony winced at the harsh words, head turning to his mother for support. She sat away, isolated on the armchair on the other side of the room. Her fingers wrapped around the short glass in her hand. Tony could see the clear liquid sloshing between her trembling hands, the half-empty bottle balancing on the edge of the coffee table. She didn't look up as her husband spoke, his booming tone guaranteeing that she heard him._

"_This is your fault."_

_Tony didn't speak. He looked up meekly, shaking his head. His eyes were wide. His father opened his mouth, but stopped as another voice spoke._

"_Senor DiNozzo. Telephone call." The maid stood nervously in the doorway. _

_Anthony DiNozzo Senior turned away from his son, following the maid out of the room. He passed his inebriated wife without so much as a glance. Business came first. Always._

_It was only when he was gone that Maria DiNozzo spoke, her voice soft but passionate. She was speaking to herself. Tony doubted she was even aware of his presence. _

"_My son is gone."_

_Tony stood up, moving to comfort his mother, but was stopped in his tracks._

"_My only son is dead."_

Tony thrashed in his sleep, the intense pain caused by the action jolting him back to consciousness."Shit," he mumbled, propping himself up so he could massage his throbbing knee. "Last time I fight McGee. Ever."The pain faded slightly and Tony eased back, running fingers across his forehead, wishing he could simply massage away the pain in his head.

_He was in the same room, sitting on the chair his mother had once sat on. Tony tugged at the thin black tie the maid had wrangled onto him, scowling as the knot refused to budge._

"_Leave it, boy. At least do your mother the honour of looking respectable at her funeral."_

_Tony stiffened at the sound of the booming voice, his hands quickly falling to his sides. Anthony DiNozzo Senior stood by the bar, the scotch glass Tony suspected had become a permanent addition to his body in hand. _

"_Things are going to be different around here boy. Very different." __Anthony DiNozzo Senior set the glass down on the hard marble of the bar, his gaze narrowing. His fourteen-year-old son seemed to shrink under it._

"_Y-yes sir," Tony stood, almost to attention before scurrying out of the room._

Tony's eyes flickered open and he exhaled heavily, raising his eyes to the ceiling of the room. Memories of his childhood, memories he'd tried so hard to repress were working their way to the front of his mind. One day in particular stood out.

_He was dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, sports bag over his shoulder and basketball under his arm. He dumped the stuff in the corner of the room, just like he had three months ago. It was almost as if nothing had happened. But it had. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom, looking across at the door that once led to his brother's dungeon. Except the door was no longer black, the posters had been stripped down. It was painted plain cream, the room was empty, like nobody had ever lived there. _

After Joe died, Tony's mother had wanted to keep the room exactly as it was, touching nothing and locking the door to preserve his memory. Anthony DiNozzo Senior disagreed. And since he brought in the money, he decided. The room was emptied, clothing and possessions burnt and Joe was never mentioned in the DiNozzo manor again.

After that, relations between Tony and his father got even colder, if that was possible. His father rarely spoke to him and when he did, he was referred to only as 'Boy'. Not that his father spoke to him much before Joe died. Tony had always been a disappointment, no matter how good his grades were (well, he passed at least) or how well he played for the school football and basketball teams, his father didn't care. Joe was always the golden child, the prized firstborn. He was in line to take over the DiNozzo empire and because of that, Anthony DiNozzo Senior turned a blind eye when he failed half of his subjects, when he was caught smoking pot in the school bathroom, when he got in fights almost every week. In his father's eyes, Joey DiNozzo could do no wrong.

Relations were always slightly tense between the siblings. Tony never knew if it was just the pressures of being a sixteen-year-old, but his big brother never liked him. Even as a fourteen-year-old, Tony was strikingly good looking, although he didn't know it. Tall, lean and broad-shouldered, with deep green eyes and a smile that could charm even the strictest teacher, Tony was a friend to everyone, easily the most popular guy in his grade without even trying. A talented sportsman, he represented his school in all sorts of fields, still managing to get around a B grade in all of his classes. Well, all except maths, but that wasn't important.

Joseph DiNozzo, on the other hand, was somewhat of a black sheep. He was tall and stringy with thin black hair he pulled into a greasy ponytail. He sat by himself in classes and at lunchtimes, scaring away anybody who dared approach with the glare he inherited from his father. He harboured resentment towards his little brother. How could it be that his brother was instantly likeable, a star on the football field and smarter than him when he was two years younger? His father had taught him to expect respect from those around him, DiNozzo's after all were far superior in all respects. Tony didn't take his father's advice, he socialized with all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds. He even smiled and chatted with the cleaners and cafeteria staff. Yet people respected Tony. They listened to him, liked him. No one felt that way about Joe.

_Tony heard footsteps down the hallway and quickly ducked back into the room. He didn't want his father to catch him even thinking about Joe._

"_Boy."_

"_Yes sir." Tony came out and stood in front of his father in the hallway, unconsciously smoothing his crumpled singlet._

"_Did I not clearly tell you not to converse with the hired help?" The glass of scotch was in his hand, more empty than full._

"_Y-yes sir."_

"_And yet I saw you this morning, having quite the animated conversation with the maid."_

"_I- I was just wishing Rosita a happy birthday, sir. Today is her fiftieth birthday." Tony cringed as he remembered embracing the maid in a hug before leaving for school. She was the closest thing he had to a friend in the big empty house._

_Anthony DiNozzo Senior cleared his throat gruffly. "Rest assured she has already been disposed of." He turned, walking downstairs to the living room and presumably the bar. _

_Tony stood in stunned silence. His father had fired Rosita. She'd worked for the family for almost fifteen years; his mother had hired her to help when he was born. She'd raised him almost single-handedly. And now, because of him, because of a friendly embrace, she was gone. She had children to support, a family. He couldn't just fire her!_

_Suddenly angry, Tony ran after his father, taking the stairs two at a time. He squared up to his father, blocking his passage to the bar._

"_Hire her back. She did nothing wrong."_

"_Boy, get out of my way." His father's eyes were cold._

"_No. Hire her back."_

"_Get.Out.Of.My.Way.Boy."_

_Tony met his father's stare with one of his own. He could bring on the anger just as well as his father. Tony was tall for his age, but he was thin and his father was a sizable man. With a backhand, he knocked Tony to the floor, keeping him down with a kick to the ribs. He was able to reach the bar and top up his scotch before Tony pulled himself up, blood running from his lip and nose._

"_I'm not like you, Dad." Tony drew out the last word, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand. "I'm not going to quit that easily. Hire her back."_

"_You will speak to me with respect, stupid boy." His father sipped the drink, eyes filled with menace. Tony didn't move, face void of any emotion but blind rage._

"_Hire her back."_

_The glass clinked on the marble as his father set it down with a little more force than was necessary. "I am your father. You will speak to me with respect."_

_He grabbed Tony by the shoulders, shoving him back into the coffee table. Tony fell into it, the glass smashing into shards around him. With a smirk, Anthony DiNozzo Senior picked up his glass, striding out of the room._

"_Clean up your mess, boy." He called back. "Since we don't have a maid to do it for you."_

Tony's hand moved to his heart, somehow trying to slow his racing heartbeat. That was the last time he'd spoken to his father. He'd pulled himself out of the remnants of the coffee table, sweeping the bloodied shards up with a dustpan and brush. Removing what he could of the glass from his back, he went to bed. When he got up the next morning, his father wasn't around, although that wasn't unusual. He went to school, got the school nurse to patch him up. She didn't ask any questions, something he was thankful for, although she did fish around for an explanation. When he got home from football practice there was a new maid dusting the mantelpiece and a new coffee table. The maid didn't speak to him, simply handing him a typed note from his father's secretary:

To Anthony DiNozzo Jnr.

This letter is to formally inform you that you have been disowned from the DiNozzo family trust. You will no longer receive any financial support from the family and you are no longer welcome in the DiNozzo family manor.

You have been enrolled in Rhode Island Military Academy, beginning next week. A car will pick you up tomorrow at 8am. Pack all of your belongings as you will not be returning. Do not try to make contact with your father. Expect a letter from the DiNozzo family lawyer outlining in detail the disownment.

Andrew McGarthy

DiNozzo Enterprises

Biting down on the sick feeling of panic that had begun to engulf him, Tony looked up to see the new young maid looking at him curiously. Throwing the letter down, Tony ran up the stairs, his new-found liberation giving him energy as he threw his possessions into a trunk. He was free.

_TBC. Please review :)_


	15. Chapter 15

_Thankyou everyone for brightening my mornings with the awesome reviews! Here's chapter15, hope you enjoy :)_

**Chapter Fifteen**

Tony grabbed his crutches and hobbled out into the living room. Despite the horrible dreams he'd just had, he felt surprisingly refreshed, the pounding headache fading into a dull but tolerable ache at the back of the head. Definitely one of his more memorable concussions. His knee still throbbed with pain, but nothing he couldn't handle, although he found himself grateful for the crutches holding himself up. He didn't even want to contemplate putting weight on the leg.

Abby was passed out on the lounge, snoring softly. From the tapping Tony figured Gibbs was back in the basement. He heard a knock on the front door and went to open it, noting with satisfaction that the metal crutches were much easier to use. Standing on one foot, he leaned a crutch against the wall and swung back the heavy wooden door. Ziva and McGee were standing in the doorway. Tony bit back a snort of laughter. Ziva was holding a bouquet of daisies in one hand, a curious juxtaposition with the Israeli super-spy. McGee stood beside her, awkwardly holding a pizza.

Tony said nothing, standing at the door smiling stupidly at his friends. He was glad of the company.

"I'd ask how you were feeling, but it seems you're feeling better," Ziva said with a quirk of the eyebrow, her eyes scanning him head to toe. Tony looked down to see what she was talking about and realised he still wasn't wearing a shirt, dressed only in his jeans from the day before. His old shirt had been ruined with blood and he hadn't got around to borrowing one off Gibbs.

"C'mon in." He pushed the door back, grabbing the other crutch in the process and deftly hobbled into the kitchen. He didn't want to wake Abby if he could help it.

"Abby," he confirmed for the benefit of his guests as her snoring filtered into the room. Tony pulled himself up so he was sitting on Gibbs' kitchen bench. "So what brings you to Casa de Gibbs?"

"Uh, a peace offering." McGee held the pizza out to Tony.

"Thanks Probie." Tony sat the pizza on the bench beside him without opening it. "Oh hey, you should take Gibbs some. He's downstairs building his ark."

"That so, DiNozzo?"

"Hey boss." Tony flashed a smile at his boss who'd just entered the kitchen.

Gibbs walked over, grabbing himself a slice of pizza. On his way he dropped a folded tee-shirt on Tony's lap. Tony unfolded it.

"NIS, boss? This shirt must be older than-" One look from Gibbs was enough to shut him up. Shrugging, Tony pulled the shirt over his head.

"Grey's not really my colour, but thanks boss."

Gibbs glared at him through a mouthful of pizza. "Dinozzo, why is your ass on my bench?" He said with mock-seriousness after swallowing. Truth be told he was glad to see the younger agent back on his feet, figuratively speaking, and with a bit of colour in his face.

"Yeah Tony," Ziva added. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

Tony's face went blank, all colour vanishing suddenly. Wordlessly he slid off the bench, tucking his crutches under his arms. "I guess not. Sorry boss." He muttered, walking to the doorway.

"Hey Probie, can you drive me home?" Tony said quietly on his way through.

"Uh, sure Tony." McGee said, stepping back to let him through.

"Hold it, DiNozzo. You have a concussion. You're not going anywhere." Gibbs intervened, throwing a deadly glare at Ziva on the way.

"Boss, its been practically 24 hours. You don't have to worry about me slipping into a coma. I just wanna go back to my own place. I can take care of myself." Tony's voice was low and serious.

Gibbs sighed, looking at Tony. There was a lot more to Tony's reaction to Ziva's comment than he knew, and he wanted to keep Tony where he could look after him. At the same time, he knew that when Tony spoke in that voice he meant business and it was entirely pointless to argue with the younger man.

"Fine, but you're doing the explaining to Ducky when he finds out I let you go."

Tony was grateful as he muttered "Thanks boss," and walked toward the front door. McGee followed him, grabbing Tony's shoes from beside the door.

"I'll see ya Monday," Tony said, quickly leaving.

With Tony and McGee gone and Abby still sleeping, Gibbs turned his full attention to Ziva.

"What?" She asked, slightly intimidated by his ferocious stare. "Was it something I said?"

"You read his dossier before you came to NCIS, you tell me David." Gibbs growled, grabbing his coffee cup and striding back to the basement. The door slammed behind him on his way down. Ziva scowled as he left, laying the flowers on the benchtop and slipping out the front door.

The slam of the basement door woke Abby. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and streaking her face with eyeliner, eyeshadow and mascara in the process. Looking more like a raccoon than a forensic specialist, she looked around the room. Gibbs, McGee, Ziva and Tony were gone, leaving only the scent of pizza, flowers and coffee in their wake.

"Where'd everybody go?"

_TBC_

_Yeah, I know, it was short. Ridiculously short. I'm sorry! Comes down to me having 8 exams in the space of a week, but I wanted to post something now in case I don't have time to write later... well, it made sense at the time :P  
__Please keep reviewing, makes my day :) And I promise Ch16 will be longer to make up for this :)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks for reading and for reviewing! I'm sorry this one's pretty ordinary….the evil physics exam has fried my brain..._

**Chapter Sixteen**

It took a lot of convincing for Tony to get McGee to leave. After McGee helped him inside, it took several of his most charming smiles, a couple of movie references and finally a 'Probie!' before McGee finally gave in and left, leaving Tony alone in his apartment. He sat on his couch, wishing he could go for a run, his preferred form of therapy to sort out his emotions. Or get piss-drunk, but he couldn't do that either, thanks to the residual effects of the concussion and the various medications still floating through his bloodstream. For lack of anything better to do, Tony switched on the television, flicking through the midday movies and soapies, none of it registering within his brain.

He knew he'd been harsh on Ziva; he'd definitely overreacted to what was meant to be a throw-away comment, but for the moment he didn't care. He was tired and he was in pain. It was one thing for Abby, Gibbs and Ducky to be privy to a few select facts from his less-than-ideal childhood, but baring his soul in front of Ziva and McGee wasn't something he even wanted to think about.

Tony switched of the television, tossing the remote down on the sofa as he pulled himself up. He locked the door, switching on his answering machine so that calls would go straight to messagebank. He knew that as soon as Abby woke up she'd call him, but he didn't really feel like talking.

What he did feel like was taking a shower, the dirt and grime on his body suddenly overwhelming him. Ditching the crutches in the hallway, Tony hopped into the bathroom. He peeled of Gibbs' teeshirt, throwing it onto the top of the hamper. Now came the greater challenge – removing his jeans without triggering any agonizing pain. The first part was easy, Tony unbuttoned the snap and peeled the jeans down to mid-thigh, extracting his good leg. The next part – not so simple. Tony propped himself up on the bathtub, slowly tugging the faded blue denim down his leg. He managed to lose the jeans relatively painlessly. He unstrapped the soft brace, frowning at the dark red and purple bruises highlighting the swelling over his already grazed knee.

"Ouch. Nice one, DiNozzo," he said, rifling through the drawers of the vanity until he found what he was looking for. A plastic shower cap. Perfect for keeping stitches on head wounds dry, a little trick he'd picked up several concussions ago.

Sixty minutes, several hundred litres of hot water and a bar of soap later, a very clean Anthony DiNozzo emerged from the steamy bathroom, wincing as he bent to retrieve the discarded crutches. He traded the fluffy white towel for some silky black boxers and a soft teeshirt, leaving the knee-brace off temporarily as he hopped down the hallway to find some sort of ice-pack. He passed the flashing answering machine on his way. Three new messages. He grinned. Not bad for an hour. At least two of those would be from Abby, and the third one, if not from her, would be Gibbs or Ziva presumably. He didn't bother to play them, knowing what they'd say.

Abby: _Hey DiNozzo, what's the deal? You don't even say goodbye? I heard what happened. Are you okay? Want me to come over? Want me to freeze all of Ziva's finances? Or I could send some 'incriminating' emails from her server to Special Agent Donnell, you know the guy who's a bigger prude than McGee ..._ and it would continue in a similar fashion until the machine cut her off.

Gibbs: _DiNozzo, call me._

And Ziva…. well, he didn't really feel like thinking, let alone listening to Ziva that night.

Makeshift ice-pack in hand, Tony hobbled back down the hallway, flopping onto his bed with a contented grunt. He appreciated the time and care Gibbs and Abby took to help him whenever he got injured, but when it came down to it, the best remedy for anything, in his opinion, was his bed.

King-sized, super soft and covered with a massive, downy cover, Tony's bed was his favourite thing in the apartment. After his flat-screen tv, dvd player, dvd collection and XBOX 360, of course. He rarely, if ever, brought women back to his place, so sacred was the bed. Tony didn't like to share it.

Settling the plastic bag of frozen peas on his sore knee, Tony sighed with relief as the coldness sunk in, numbing the pain. He woke up 12 hours later to find himself in the exact same position, soggy bag of peas still resting on his knee. He glanced at the clock beside him; it was now Sunday afternoon.

"I sure know how to spend a weekend," Tony muttered, pulling himself up to a sitting position. His vision didn't blur with the movement and he noted with happiness that the effects of the concussion had pretty much worn off.

"Well, maybe things are looking up after all," he said as he stretched and stood up. The purple swelling of his knee had morphed into a swirly blacky-blue colour.

"Cool," Tony said, prodding it with a finger. Abby would like the bruise. Although he immediately regretted touching the knee, it had become super-sensitive and the probing finger sent his muscles into a spasm of pain.

"Ffffffffffffffuck," Tony said, biting his lip. He grabbed the crutches from their spot against the wall and took all of the weight off his leg in an effort to stem the pain.

"And they say you're just a pretty face," he said to himself sarcastically, staying in that position for a minute before returning the dripping ice pack to the freezer. The answering machine flashed. 8 new messages. He figured five or six of those belonged to Abby. Ah well. He'd see them all at work in just a few hours, no point ringing back. His phone sat on the kitchen top where McGee'd left it for him. He smirked. 6 missed calls on that one. He had some good friends.

By his count, he'd waited long enough for the medications to wear off so with great satisfaction he grabbed a beer from the fridge and flipped the top off. He took a long drag from the bottle, downing a third of it with relish. The phone rang beside him as he set the frosty bottle down on the bench. He reached for it, figuring Abby had worried enough already.

"Hey Abs, yes I'm fine." He said into the handpiece as he picked it up.

A pause ensued.

"Abby?"

"Anthony DiNozzo?" an unfamiliar male voice filtered through the phone.

Tony froze. Apart from Ducky, nobody called him Anthony. It was Tony to his friends and colleagues, Special Agent DiNozzo or Mr DiNozzo to everyone else. Nobody called him Anthony. Except…. his family.

_TBC..._

_Told you my brain was stuck in first gear (that's a car reference because I'm finally learning how to drive :P) Fear not, something will actually happen in the next chapter. Its all planned out, just give my brain a few more hours to recover from the evil poisonous physics exam and then I'll write it. Update maybe tomorrow or day after :) Please keep reviewing, you know I love ya for it!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Did I mention how awesome you all are? Thanks for the reviews! Anyways, since I sat my last exam today, I have no excuse not to write... so here it is, Chapter 17! Hope you enjoy :)_

**Chapter Seventeen**

_The phone rang beside him as he set the frosty bottle down on the bench. He reached for it, figuring Abby had worried enough already._

"_Hey Abs, yes I'm fine." He said into the handpiece as he picked it up._

_A pause ensued._

"_Abby?"_

"…_.uh, is that Anthony DiNozzo?" an unfamiliar male voice filtered through the phone._

_Tony froze. Apart from Ducky, nobody called him Anthony. It was Tony to his friends and colleagues, Special Agent DiNozzo or Mr DiNozzo to everyone else. Nobody called him Anthony. Except… his family._

* * *

"Can I ask who's calling?" Tony replied, trying to keep his voice even. 

"This is Santino DiNozzo. I urgently need to speak to Anthony DiNozzo, I've left several messages for him."

Santino. Definitely sounded familiar. Then it clicked.

"Jesus, Sonny?"

Sonny was his cousin, four years older than him. They'd known each other growing up, had lunch at Sonny's house every Sunday. Tony hadn't spoken to him, hadn't heard his voice for a long, long time.

"Is that you Anthony?"

"Yeah. God, its been a while."

"Mmmm."

"Sonny, is there a reason you called? Its not that I mind, just that you haven't spoken to me in twenty years." Not since my father disowned me and sent me to military school."

Sonny's voice grew serious again. "Yes, yes there is. Look Anthony, I don't feel comfortable doing this over the phone. Do you think we could meet?"

Tony leaned back against the counter, frowning slightly. "Sonny, if you were able to find my private number after twenty years, I have no doubts that you can run a background check on me. I'm a federal agent. I live in D.C. And from the sounds of it, you're working for the family business, which means that you're in New York. I can't just pick up and go to New York whenever I feel like it."

Sonny sighed. "You're right, Anthony. I just – well I guess I just have to say this. Your father died last night. He had a series of heart attacks and died in hospital."

He paused to let the information sink in.

Tony could feel his heart pounding. "Oh……okay."

"Look, I know things ended badly between the two of you," Sonny said. Tony snorted mentally. Badly was a teeny bit of an understatement. "But the service is going to be on Tuesday. I'm sure nobody here would mind if you came."

Tony ran the palm of his hand over his face. "Sonny, I appreciate you calling, but I left that part of my life behind a long time ago. He wouldn't have wanted me there."

Sonny was silent. Tony guessed he couldn't disagree.

"Ah… there is another matter. Your father's will. He made some changes in the months before he died, and from what his lawyer has told me, you've been included."

Biting his bottom hip, Tony pulled himself up onto the bench so he wasn't leaning on his leg. "Sonny, I know you mean well, but I didn't need his money when I was fourteen and I don't need it now. Just give it to charity or something. Cancer research, save the whales, I really don't care."

"You don't want- okay…. I'll have to –"

"Get the family lawyer to contact my lawyer. With your research I'm sure you have that information available." Tony said curtly.

"I'll get on to it. Anthony, I'm sorry." Sonny said finally.

"Yeah." Tony exhaled, hanging up. He reached for the now-warm bottle of beer, swallowing thickly. Definitely the last thing he'd been expecting. He dumped the empty bottle by the sink, yanking out the phone cable and switching off his mobile. If he didn't feel like talking to anyone before, he definitely wasn't in the mood for a chat now.

His father was dead.

In spite of himself, Tony bit back a chuckle. It had been his heart of all things. Considering the bottle and a half of Scotch his father consumed daily, he'd always expected it to be his liver.

"Fuck." Tony muttered softly. He'd thought about this day a couple of times over the years, wondering how it would feel. He'd always expected to feel almost relieved, maybe even a little sad but now, Tony felt……..nothing.

A car backfired on the street outside Tony's apartment, snapping him out of the trance he'd fallen into. It was dark outside and Tony could just make out the time on the clock above the television. Almost eight o'clock. Some trance. Drumming his fingers along the edge of the couch, Tony finally stood up. He knew he had almost no hope of getting a peaceful night sleep no matter where he slept, although the chances increased slightly if he was sleeping in his own bed.

_The Next Day_

"Are you feeling okay, Tony?" McGee said as he passed Tony's desk, returning from the break room with a mug of coffee.

"Yeah, Probie," Tony said dryly, dumping his bag in the corner and leaning his crutches against the bench behind him. He wondered if McGee was asking because he was early to work for once, or because of the dark shadows under his eyes.

McGee stared at him for a second, but, realizing he wasn't getting anything more out of Tony, sat down at his own desk. Ziva emerged from the lift, shrugging out of her coat as she walked. She too did a double-take as she passed Tony, her eyes immediately going to her watch as she confirmed that, yes, he really was at work early.

"Tony, about Saturday…. I'm sorry," she said sincerely. Tony was impressed, and a little taken-aback. He couldn't remember ever hearing her give a heart-felt apology before. He mustered up a smile.

"Ziva, I over-reacted. I should be apologizing-"

He should've expected the head-slap as Gibbs returned from the director's office.

"Never apologize, DiNozzo. It's a-"

"Sign of weakness," Tony, McGee and Ziva chorused.

Gibbs frowned. "Thought I told you to get some sleep. What'd you do, stay up watching a Magnum marathon?"

"No boss," Tony said flatly. _I tried to sleep but I kept waking up sweaty and shaking after having nightmares about my now-deceased father beating me in a drunken stupor_.

He could feel the eyes of the whole team on him as he turned his attention to his computer, which was still switched off.

"We got a case, boss?" Tony said, not turning around.

"No." Gibbs said finally. "The director called me up to address the issue of paperwork, which apparently is a serious issue on this team. Gibbs snorted, he didn't consider the massive stack of papers on his desk which threatened to spill over and flood the entire bullpen to be a serious issue.

"So," Gibbs continued "on Director Sheppard's orders, today is to be spent filing all outstanding reports, evaluations and routine paperwork." He turned back to his desk, expecting at least a sigh or cry of dismay from Tony. When Tony remained silent, he spun around, dumping the empty cardboard coffee cup in the bin.

"DiNozzo." He said, standing in front of the agent who was apparently too engrossed in his email inbox to reply. Not deterred, Gibbs placed his hand against Tony's forehead, not liking the paleness of Tony's skin. Tony jumped at the contact, swiveling back in his chair.

"What the hell, Gibbs?"

Gibbs removed the hand and picked up the receiver of Tony's phone.

"Ducky….. you busy? Need you to come take a look at Tony." He hung up abruptly.

"Boss, I'm fine. What, do you expect me to be tanned when I've been cooped up indoors all weekend?"

Gibbs didn't answer. He didn't know what it was, but there was definitely something wrong with Tony. He could tell, Tony wasn't teasing McGee or bickering with Ziva. He was staying quiet, doing actual work. Gibbs stuck his hand in his pocket. Something was definitely wrong.

Ducky was up in the bullpen in a matter of minutes, black leather medical bag in hand. He put it down on Tony's desk and immediately set about checking the stitches in Tony's scalp.

"How's the concussion my boy?"

"Gone." Tony said simply. Ducky nodded, moving down to check his pupils with a penlight.

"And the knee?"

"Sore, but nothing unbearable."

"Good. Now tell me, Anthony, have you been sleeping?"

Tony stiffened a little at the sound of his name. "Sure."

He could feel Ducky's eyebrows knitting together in disbelief, but Ducky said nothing, patting him on the shoulder and walking around to talk to Gibbs. Tony shook his head mentally. Everyone always seemed to forget that he had extra-sharp hearing. If they thought he couldn't hear them whispering two metres away from his desk….

"What do ya think, Duck?"

"Well, nothing physical I can notice, but you're right, there's definitely something going on. My best advice would be to send him home to get some sleep, but we both know how he's going to react to that. I think the best option is-

"Abby," Both men whispered at the same time.

Tony rolled his eyes. Abby was going to be super-pissed at him for not returning any of her messages and then turning off his phones. And a super-pissed Abby was the last thing he needed.

Too late. Dressed in a short, tight, black pinafore dress and white knee-socks, Abby strode out of the lift, her eyes honing in on Tony before Gibbs even had a chance to call her. She stormed up to Tony, her fist connecting with his shoulder.

"What was that for?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You know, DiNozzo. Don't play all innocent. Where do you get off disconnecting me?"

She might be his best friend, but Tony really didn't feel like arguing with her. "Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't feel like talking."

And just like that, he was forgiven. Abby sat herself down on his desk, hand rubbing the shoulder she'd just punched.

"You look….. different." She said finally.

"Okay," Tony said flatly, knowing everyone in the bullpen was watching and eavesdropping.

"What's up, Tonyboy?"

"Nothing, Abs," Tony said, moving around her to place his hands back on the keyboard. "I've got work to do."

Abby pouted, standing up. She walked over to Ducky and Gibbs, joining their whisper-circle.

"What's up with Tony?" she whispered. "What did you do?" she asked pointedly to Gibbs.

"Don't know, Abs. We were hoping you could tell us. He's been acting strangely since he got in."

McGee took that opportunity to interrupt.

"Guys?" He pointed to the plasma screen between his and Tony's desks. The sound was muted and so nobody had paid it any attention. Except McGee of course. The news was playing. A picture appeared on the screen with a caption. Tony glanced at it and sighed softly, turning back to his computer monitor.

"McGee! Make the sound work." Gibbs ordered. McGee fumbled for the remote, turning up the volume. The voice of the female anchor filled the room.

…_.. passed away on Saturday night in a private New York hospital. He was surrounded by his family and friends. A funeral service will be held tomorrow in New York City. Anthony DiNozzo's death puts into question the fate of the multi-billion dollar corporation DiNozzo Enterprises. As Anthony DiNozzo leaves behind no children, the corporation will fall into the hands of one of the late Mr DiNozzo's brothers, Lucius and Alfio DiNozzo. Both businessmen with very different, highly aggressive management styles. Needless to say, the DiNozzo family and shareholders alike will be listening keenly when the last wishes of Mr Anthony DiNozzo are announced after the reading of his will on Wednesday. In other news…_

McGee switched off the television. Tony tried to concentrate on deleting the spam from his inbox, knowing full well that at least five sets of eyes were fixed firmly on him.

"Well I guess that answers our question," Gibbs muttered, looking around for his coffee only to remember he'd finished it several minutes ago.

"Oh my god, Tony, why didn't you say anything?" Abby squealed, swooping over to plant herself on his lap, wrapping her spike-clad arms around his neck. She squeezed tightly, only relenting when she realized Tony had gone from that funny shade of white-grey to a pale blue. As Tony caught his breath she folded her arms, waiting for him to answer her question.

It became evident that he wasn't going to say anything, still not meeting her eyes, so Abby twisted around, appealing to Gibbs for help her out.

_I need more coffee_, Gibbs thought, looking at his silent senior field agent. Tony obviously didn't want to or wasn't comfortable discussing his father, and Gibbs knew better than to press the point. The man had had a crappy enough weekend without his whole team, his friends, pressuring him to talk.

"What's everybody waiting for?" Gibbs said, breaking the stillness. "Get back to work."

_aaaaand... more to come. Tomorrow Tony Hurts His Knee turns 1 month old! So...I may just have to update again to commemorate the occasion :) Please keep reviewing!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Woot! THHK turns 1 month old today!!! And, as promised, to help celebrate, a fresh new chapter, hot off the press :) Big hugs to everyone who reviewed, especially to donttouch and angel8818 for making me laugh extra-hard. I seriously love you all! I'd also like to take this momentous occassion to announce that THHK has broken the 40,000 hit mark. Awesome! You guys overwhelm me, I never would have thought that people all around the world would read, let alone enjoy my silly little story (which has quickly grown into a silly big story!)... okay, enough waffling :) Hope you like!_

* * *

"What's everybody waiting for?" Gibbs said, breaking the stillness. "Get back to work." 

**Chapter Eighteen**

Abby and Ducky retreated to the lift and Ziva scuttled back to her desk. McGee busied himself by rifling through some random papers on his desk. Returning with coffee and satisfied that they were at least pretending to work, Gibbs sat down in his chair and embarked on the unbelievably boring task of completing the employee evaluations.

Half an hour later, Tony's phone rang, breaking the quiet of the unanimated bullpen.

"DiNozzo…………Mhmmm……….be right up."

He hung up the phone, grabbing one of his crutches. Gibbs looked at him, an eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Director wants to see me," Tony said tonelessly and began hopping slowly up the stairs. He was panting and perspiring slightly when he finally made it to the top. Cynthia, the director's assistant waved him straight in.

"Tony," Jenny Sheppard began as he entered her office, leaning on the table.

"Jen."

"I just heard about your father. I'm very sorry."

"Thanks."

"I heard on the news that his service will be tomorrow. I've got the paperwork right here to arrange for bereavement leave."

"Not necessary," Tony said, sticking his hands in his pocket.

Director Sheppard frowned. "Okay, but the option is still open if you change your mind. The other thing we need to discuss is the injuries you sustained on Thursday and Friday of last week. From what Doctor Mallard has told me, you injured your knee while in the field and suffered a concussion as a result of the knee injury."

Tony smiled slightly. Good old Ducky. The paperwork required for an injury sustained in the field was nothing compared to the paperwork for injuries sustained in the workplace. And it was no secret how he felt about paperwork.

"So," Jenny continued, "I need you to sign the standard forms." She placed two forms embossed with the NCIS logo beside him on the table. Tony quickly scrawled his signature on the dotted lines. "And, although I have a feeling I already know what you will say, you are entitled to up to a week of medical leave."

Tony snorted. "I think I'll survive, Director."

"Very well," Jenny replied as Tony turned to leave. "Ah, Special Agent DiNozzo, there is one other thing. New protocol have just been established, effective as of last week. You've probably already read the memo."

Tony tilted his head.

"But just to refresh your memory, all agents are required to attend a session with the psychologist when they are injured in the field."

"What? This is nothing," Tony waved his hand at his knee.

"Tony, you were taken to hospital, you're walking on crutches, you have stitches in your head and you suffered a concussion. That is definitely something."

Tony scowled, picking up his crutch.

"Appointment's tomorrow at nine," she called after him. "No excuses, don't be late."

Tony was still scowling as he returned to his desk. Gibbs was actually a little relieved to see some form of emotion on the younger agent's face.

"Problem, DiNozzo?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

DiNozzo shook his head slightly. "Director Sheppard is making me see the office shrink.

"Oh right, the new protocol," McGee said.

Tony shot him a dirty look, sending another one Ziva's way as he muttered, "I hate shrinks."

They stayed quiet after that, but Tony didn't miss the looks of concern they kept giving him when they thought he wasn't looking. Tony was actually relieved when it hit 6:00pm and Gibbs let them go home.

"You okay to drive, Tony?" Gibbs called afterwards as Tony hobbled toward the lift.

"Yeah. I drove here this morning," Tony said. He didn't want anyone else touching his baby. Gibbs looked slightly doubtful.

"I'm fine, boss. Driving requires use of the ankle, not the knee," Tony said, brushing off the concern. He was getting a little tired of everyone fussing over him.

He wasn't altogether surprised to find Abby lounging in his apartment when he got home. Even though he'd left five minutes before her, Abby knew more shortcuts than Gibbs. She was sitting cross-legged on the swivel-chair in front of his desk when he walked inside, the door already unlocked and open for him.

"Abby, what'd I tell you about leaving the front door open?" He said with half a smile.

"Hey Tonyboy," she replied cheerfully without turning around, her fingers busy at work on the keyboard of his laptop. "I'm just upgrading your system and defragmenting the files. Should run a lot faster now."

"Kay," Tony said, grabbing two beers from the fridge and not really understanding what she was saying.

She pushed the chair back from the desk and took the beer. Tony chuckled, she'd changed his desktop background from a photo of Anna, the swimsuit model of the month, to a cartoon of a goth-teddy bear.

"Nice, Abs."

She nodded. "And don't worry, I haven't deleted all the porn sites from your browser."

Tony snorted into his beer bottle. Abby never failed to cheer him up. She kicked her shoes off, curling up beside him on the couch.

"So the old man's dead," she said finally.

"Yep," Tony said, his arm resting on her shoulders.

"What's it feel like?"

"…strange. I thought I'd be glad, but I feel…."

"Empty." Abby finished for him.

"Yeah. Empty." Tony said, running his other hand through his hair, cautious of the stitches. "My cousin called me yesterday with the news. He said – he reckons my father included me in his will."

"Really?" Abby's voice was filled with disbelief. After everything Tony had told her and she'd researched about Anthony DiNozzo Senior, she felt almost as hostile toward him as Tony did.

"Yep. Don't know why he bothered. I don't want anything to do with the dirty DiNozzo money," Tony said bitterly, drinking his beer.

"But Tony, what if he repented in his old age? He could've left you the whole company. You could be a million- no – billionaire!" Abby was excited now, thinking of the super Caff-Pow machine a billionaire Tony could buy her.

Tony choked on his mouthful of beer. "Abs, sorry to disappoint you, but that's not even a remote possibility. Even if he did do that, the family would contest the will, since I was legally disowned twenty years ago. Just because he includes me in his will doesn't mean I'm welcomed back into the family. Chances are he left me some token sum of money or one of his fifteen-odd holiday homes just in case some nosy journalist wants to start poking around the DiNozzo history and finds out the real reasons I was disowned."

"You never know," Abby muttered softly, reaching for one of the take-away menus scattered on the coffee-table. "Wanna order in?"

"Sure," Tony said. For the first time in days he actually felt like eating. "Thai?"

"Sounds good," Abby said, standing up. She picked up the phone, holding it to her ear. A look of confusion crossed her face, and then she bent down and reconnected the phone cable. "Guess you really didn't feel like talking," she said with a grin.

Tony shrugged, switching on the television. He channel-surfed, but from the snippets of various news programs, he could see his father's death was still making headlines. He settled on a flickery black-and-white Charlie Chaplin movie as Abby called in their usual order. She hung up, resuming her still-warm spot on the couch.

"I'm glad you're not going to be a billionaire," she said after a while.

"Mmm? Why's that?" Tony said, watching the movie.

"Cuz then you wouldn't need to work. You'd spend all your time at parties hanging out with supermodels and actresses. Gibbs would have no-one to head-slap. Ziva would have no-one to argue with. McGee would have to face the wrath of Gibbs all alone... And I'd miss you too much."

She snuggled closer to him as the first genuine smile she'd seen from him in days spread across Tony's face.

_TBC_

I know, such a cheesy ending to the chapter. Hahaha. Plenty more to come, please keep reviewing :)


	19. Chapter 19

_Hello again. Thanks to everyone for reading, and I really appreciate the reviews :) Hopefully this makes sense, its kinda late and I'm not supposed to be on the computer, so I haven't double-checked it... Enjoy!_

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Special Agent DiNozzo," Director Sheppard called from the balcony above the bullpen. Tony scowled, giving up his attempt to sneak into the office.

"Just making sure you don't forget. Your appointment is in one hour. Special Agent Lee has been instructed to escort you there, just in case you get distracted."

Tony nodded at Jenny before slumping in his chair, the scowl returning to his face. Abby, who'd followed him out of the lift, winked at him as she passed to talk to McGee about the latest modification she'd made to one of her computers.

"This yours, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' gruff voice snapped Tony out of his sulking as a bound wad of papers landed heavily on his desk, knocking over his pen-holder. Tony looked down. It was one of his out-standing reports which he'd finished (or at least he thought he had finished) the previous day.

"Yeah boss," Tony said. His name was printed in bold letters on the cover page of the report. He wondered if Gibbs' had skipped his optometrist appointment again. "There a problem?"

Another report was Frisbee-ed across the bullpen, landing on top of the first one.

"This yours too?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah…" Tony said slowly, still not following.

With an exaggerated sigh, Gibbs stood up and walked across to Tony's desk. He jabbed a finger at the second report. "That would be your signature, DiNozzo." Tony nodded, all agents were required to sign off on their reports for verification purposes. Gibbs' finger moved across to the first report. "And your signature here would be….?"

"Ah," Finally it clicked into place. Picking up one of the pens that had spread across his desk, Tony signed off on the first report, his hand fluidly moving across the page as he wrote out his long, loopy signature. "Right, boss."

Gibbs' hand connected with the back of his head, then snatched the two reports. Gibbs was back in his chair before Tony even had a chance to rub his head. Abby giggled, sticking her tongue out at Tony as she left the bullpen, a silent glare from Gibbs enough to send her back to her lab to do some actual work.

The phone on Gibbs' desk rang as the lift doors closed on the Goth. Gibbs spoke briefly into the receiver, placing it down stoically.

"We got a case boss?" Tony asked, eager not to spend another day filing paperwork.

Gibbs glared at him. "McGee, David and I have a case. You have an appointment with the office psychologist." He smirked as he finished the sentence. Tony's bitter scowl returned once more and he sunk back in his chair, watching dejectedly as McGee caught the car-keys from Gibbs and the rest of the team left to go to the crime scene. Tony sighed as McGee rushed out to gas the truck. It wasn't as if he could've gone anyway with his busted knee, but he hated the feeling of being left behind.

Special Agent Michelle Lee appeared shortly after the team departed. Left to his own devices, Tony was on his fifth game of cell-phone tetris in an attempt to save himself from dying of boredom.

"Special Agent DiNozzo?" She ventured timidly. Tony snapped his phone shut instinctively, swinging upright in the swivel-chair.

"Lee."

"It's time to go, sir,"

Tony frowned, not bothering to tell her to call him Tony. 'Sir' was better than 'Anthony' at least, but it reminded him of the functions and gatherings he'd been forced to go to as a small child, dressed up in a starchy sailor suit as his mother paraded him around like a show dog. He deliberately moved slowly on his crutches, Agent Lee having to hold the lift for him as he followed her in.

The psychologist's office was on the same level as Abby's lab. Tony sighed wishfully as they passed one of the entrances to Abby's lair. If only the Director hadn't had the foresight to assign Lee as an escort, he could've hung out with Abby instead of going to the session with the shrink.

"Ah, we're here, sir," Lee said, stopping abruptly outside a door. Doctor Meghan Hughes. Tony had never had any reason to walk down this hallway any further than Abby's lab, so he'd never seen Dr Hughes' office before. Although, judging by the shine on the brass plaque on the door, she was a relatively new addition to the NCIS staff.

"I can take it from here. Thanks Lee," Tony said, pushing forward the door. Lee took one last look to make sure he was going inside before scurrying back down the hallway. Tony smiled wryly, tipping his head slightly as she left. Agent Lee was far too timid to make it as a proper field agent, despite his attempts to convert her in the short time he'd served as team leader. She was much better suited to the legal department.

"Tony DiNozzo, I presume," A sultry voice called from beyond the doorway. Tony pulled his head out of the hallway, walking inside. A woman, Tony guessed around 40 or 45 years old, with dark auburn hair and a medium-height, slim-build stood in front of him.

"Dr Meghan Hughes. Nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand. Tony shook it, wondering if Gibbs had crossed paths with the doctor yet.

"You too," Tony said, shifting slightly on his crutches.

"Oh, please, have a seat." Dr Hughes waved him over to the dark brown leather couch. She took a seat across from him in an armchair, picking up a clipboard and pen.

"Now, I understand you've sustained several work-related injuries over the course of the last week."

Tony nodded, bored already.

"A physician will have to sign you off for active field duty in due course, as you know. My job here is to make sure you haven't sustained any emotional injuries." The doctor smiled warmly at him. Tony tried not to snort out loud. So he was wrong. Nothing would ever happen between her and Gibbs, regardless of the colour of her hair.

"Are you a natural red-head?"

Dr Hughes frowned at him and chose not to answer the question, her eyes flicking back to the clipboard.

"Tell me, Tony, have you been feeling stressed lately?"

"No."

"Any cases been bothering you?"

"Nothing more than usual, Doctor."

"What about outside of work? I read about your father in the paper. I must say, I'm very sorry, Tony. Would you like to talk about it?"

"No."

Dr Hughes seemed unperturbed by Tony's short answers, or if she was, she covered it, continuing with her questions.

"Tell me about your social life. Do you have a girlfriend? Go out much?"

"And how is that related to any of this?" Tony replied sharply. Ordinarily he would've flirted with her, asked her if she was insinuating anything. But today he didn't feel like joking, especially knowing that anything he said would probably make its way back to the director.

"Is that a sensitive topic, Tony? I'm sensing some tension here."

"I'm sorry, I just don't understand how my clubbing habits, or anything I do outside of this office for that matter, relates to my mental competency as an NCIS agent, Doctor." Tony said flatly.

Dr Hughes just made a note on her clipboard, moving on to the next mindless question.

Forty minutes and twenty-seven questions later, all of which wereTony answered with either a simple 'Yes' or 'No', Tony escaped from the psychologist's office, hobbling down the hallway as fast as his crutches and knee would let him. He nearly stumbled into McGee as he exited the lift.

"You're back."

"Yes Tony," McGee replied, stepping around Tony and walking to his desk.

"How was your session with the shrivel?" Ziva asked, following McGee and slinging her bag onto the floor.

"Its 'shrink', and it was sixty minutes of my life I'll never get back." Tony grumbled, leaning on the front of his desk. "What's the deal with the case? How come you're back so soon?"

"Fornell showed up," McGee said simply. Tony nodded knowingly.

"Pissing match over jurastiction. And Gibbs lost!" Tony smiled in disbelief. Across from him Ziva smiled back, matching his expression.

"Whoah," Tony said, looking around for the team leader. "Bossman never loses! He must be – " A hand came down across the back of his head. "-right behind me," Tony finished weakly. "How's it going, boss?"

"Get back to work, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, slamming his almost-empty cardboard coffee cup onto his desk. Tony gulped and quickly sat down, trying to look busy.

"Oh, and I catch you playing that Tetris game, I'm sending you back to Dr Hughes," Gibbs growled, draining the coffee cup.

Tony shook his head in wonderment. Some days he was almost certain his boss really did have eyes in the back of his head.

_TBC_

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_A/N: Yeah, that was a strange place to stop writing... but I had my year 12 formal last night, and I'm going away tomorrow so I kinda ran out of time (and ideas :P) for this chapter. My whole grade is going on camp to an island resort(!!) for five days, so I won't be able to update until Friday at the earliest. Hopefully this is enough to tide you over and keep you interested until then. Next chapter- the contents of Anthony DiNozzo Snr's will will be revealed, so stay tuned (and review if you like). _

_xo super-em_


	20. Chapter 20

_I'm back! Thanks to everyone for reading, special thanks to my reviewers. Hope you enjoy!!!_

**Chapter Twenty**

"Uhh Tony? Tony, you might want to listen to this."

Tony made no indication that he had even heard McGee speak to him. Then again, he may not have. Sitting back in his chair with his eyes closed, Tony drummed his fingers along in time to the music that was currently blasting into his eardrums from McGee's ipod.

"Tony?" McGee said again, this time standing directly in front of Tony.

"He's ignoring you, McGee," Ziva said from her desk. She grabbed a piece of paper from the stack on her desk, scrunched it into a ball and tossed it. The paper ball looped through the air, soaring over McGee to strike Tony directly in the forehead. Tony froze, a frown appearing on his face. Silently, he pulled out the earphones, picked up the paper ball and stood up, hopping across to Ziva's desk. Quirking an eyebrow, Tony threw the ball at her face. Ziva went to grab it, but was too slow and the paper ball bounced off her nose. Without saying a word, Tony smirked and hobbled back to his seat, replacing the earphones.

"Tony!" McGee said, louder again.

"Problem McGee?" Tony said finally.

"I was just saying, you might want to watch this." McGee pointed to the flat screen. With a dramatic sigh, Tony pulled the earphones out again and stood up, twisting his head to look at the television. The midday news was on, a female reporter standing in front of a high-rise building.

_"…meeting in the building behind me to hear the last will and testament of New York business tycoon Anthony DiNozzo who passed away on Sunday and was laid to rest yesterday afternoon. Now in a few short minutes a representative of the DiNozzo family will address the public in a press conference to announce the new head of DiNozzo Enterprises, an appointment with the potential to dramatically influence the stock market. While we wait, lets take a retrospective look at the life and times of Anthony DiNozzo..."_

The television suddenly cut out.

"Don't you have work to do," Gibbs said, annoyance radiating off his face as he stood, TV power cord in hand. The television remote lay askew on McGee's desk. It seemed that while McGee, Ziva and Tony had been caught up in the news report, Gibbs had returned, deciding to switch off the television by any possible means.

"Yes boss." McGee hurried back to his desk. Ziva nodded in agreement, pulling her chair closer to her desk. Tony remained standing, looking almost dazed as he stared at the now-black TV screen. His cell phone chirped loudly on his belt and he wrinkled his nose, pulling the phone up to eye-level to peer at the caller ID.

"You gonna answer that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said. It wasn't a question. Tony sighed almost inaudibly, flipping the phone open.

"DiNozzo." His shoulders stiffened slightly and he grabbed a crutch, hobbling closer to the window to get a little more privacy from his nosy team members. "Jake." Jake Norman was Tony's lawyer and close friend. He'd volunteered to make the trip to New York to attend the meeting on Tony's behalf.

"Mmhmmm…………………….hah." Tony laughed bitterly. "The old bastard."

He lowered his voice, aware that Ziva and McGee were straining their ears to hear his half of the conversation. "…………clause? What kind of clause?...oh you must be kidding ...Jake?...hmhmph……………..okay, thanks man. I'll talk to you soon."

Tony snapped the phone shut, replacing it on his belt. He returned to his seat, plugging the earphones back into his ears and opening the nearest file.

"Personal call, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said, knowing Tony could hear him.

"Sorry boss. Won't happen again," Tony said loudly over the music only he could hear. Gibbs grunted to himself. Tony was the sort of person who always gave too much information. Gibbs was sick of Tony clamming up and closing himself off from everyone. He got up from his desk, crossing the bullpen in one great stride and yanked the earphones out of Tony's ears.

"Hey, boss! I was listening to McGee's panpipe music!"

"Get up, DiNozzo." Gibbs said, walking off. Tony took the hint, grabbing his crutches and scrambling after Gibbs. They took the lift to the ground floor, traveling in silence. It was only as Gibbs walked briskly through the security checkpoint, Tony hopping after him that he called out.

"Boss? Where are we going, exactly?"

"Coffee." Gibbs said simply. "And its lunchtime anyway." Tony couldn't argue with Gibbs' reasoning, so he followed him to the café on the corner of the street. Gibbs swallowed his steaming black coffee with relish as they waited for the food to come.

"What's going on DiNozzo?" Gibbs said, ice-blue eyes staring straight at Tony.

"Ummm…going for lunch with you?" Tony tried. He grinned feebly but Gibbs didn't even crack a smile, his eyes fixed on Tony.

"The business is going to Lucius," Tony said finally, sipping his glass of water. "Probably the most financially sound decision in the long term, although share prices could take a dive in the coming weeks. I hear he has plans to lay off two dozen workers."

Gibbs stared at him. "Do I look like the kind of guy who gives a rats about shares, DiNozzo? I don't care about DiNozzo Enterprises. I want to know what's going on with you."

Tony blinked then sighed. "Seems my dearest father did put me in his will. Put a note in there that nobody was allowed to speak of it to the public though." He scoffed softly. "He was a clever politician you know. Including me openly would've stirred up a frenzy of press looking into the family history, Anthony DiNozzo's long lost son. Excluding me would've been just as bad just in case some reporter went looking too hard, then wanted to know just why I was disowned. This way, when some writer goes snooping through the life of my father to write his biography, which they will, and they find out about me, the unknown son, it just makes me the black sheep of the family rather than the front page headline."

Gibbs nodded, thanking the waitress as their sandwiches arrived. "He included you. So what did he leave you?"

Tony smiled wryly. "He left me $300 000 to be donated to a charity of my choosing."

Gibbs frowned, curious about Tony's reaction when a token monetary inheritance had been expected.

"There's a catch." Tony continued, toying with the crust of his sandwich. "He left me the money under the condition that I accept, and keep, another item of his. Mmmph…doubt it's his way of apologizing. More like mocking me. Rubbing my face in the life I turned away from."

Tony picked up half his sandwich, taking a huge bite out of it. Gibbs didn't touch his food, still staring at Tony.

"DiNozzo. What the hell did he leave you?"

"…urrgh…" Tony said with a mouth full of food.

Gibbs shook his head as Tony gulped down water, swallowing.

"His yacht." Tony smirked. "Wanna go sailing?"

_TBC_


	21. Chapter 21

_200 reviews - woot! Thanks guys:):)_

_A/N:__ I have absolutely no idea how long it takes for a knee injury to heal properly, so just go with me here. I also realised that its taken me twenty odd chapters just to get through the events of less than a week. So, for something new, we're gonna jump forward. Happy reading! (Oh, I also know nothing about sailing…)_

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Six Weeks Later**

"Ready Abs?"

"Ready Captain Tony," Abby said, kicking off her black leather boots and walking barefoot to stand next to Tony at the wheel of the yacht. Behind them McGee set down a picnic hamper, dressed in shorts, a polo shirt and loafers. Ziva was inside the cabin loading drinks into the cooler. Ducky and Jimmy sat to the right, Ducky in the middle of one of his stories. And Gibbs – Gibbs stood at the back of the yacht, frowning at the huge outboard motors.

_A/N: Just to help you picture it, this is what I imagine Tony's yacht looks like: __http://www.sunseekercroatia.eu/charter/SunseekerYacht82.02.jpg_

"Let's see what this bad boy can do," Tony said, powering it up. He tugged at the cap on his head, pulling his aviators down to his nose as the motors roared into action. "Grab onto something!"

Abby fell back into a seat beside Palmer as the boat took off, churning up the water behind it. McGee gripped the table, his knuckles white. Even Ziva held onto the cabin door. Tony grinned manically, going faster.

"Jesus DiNozzo. How'd you con your way into getting a boat licence?" Gibbs asked, strolling up the passage of the boat, oblivious to the rocking boat.

"You'd be surprised how far a nice smile could get you boss," Tony answered, veering the boat the left randomly.

"A female boat driving instructor," Gibbs muttered to himself. "You sure you're right to stand like that?" He said, nodding his head at Tony's feet.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. "Boss, the ER doc cleared me. The specialist cleared me. Ducky cleared me. The psycho shrink even cleared me. My knee is fine and I am so not sorry to see the last of those crutches."

"May I drive?" Ziva said, standing on the other side of Tony. Tony looked at her, considering it for a moment, then released the wheel, slowing the boat down slightly.

"Don't make me regret this," Tony warned her, grabbing a beer and joining Ducky, Jimmy, Abby and McGee at the back of the boat. "So, what do you think?"

"I think Daddy DiNozzo got it right for the first time," Abby declared, shifting across for Tony. He grinned at her as she snatched his beer.

"It certainly is impressive, Tony." Ducky agreed. "Reminds me of a time in Brazil, you see I was traveling with a close friend of mine-" The roar of the motors cut Ducky off as Ziva accelerated, suddenly swerving right. Tony tumbled out of the chair onto his ass, glad Abby was holding his glass beer bottle.

"Oo-kay, enough driving for you." He said, taking his wheel back. "Wanna turn, boss?"

Gibbs stared at him for a second, then took the wheel. "You don't need those noise-makers at the back, DiNozzo. A day like this, all you need is the wind in the sails."

"Don't know if you noticed, boss, but there are no sails on this baby." Tony said, thumping the side of the boat enthusiastically.

Abby handed Tony back his beer. "I'm gonna go stand at the front. Wanna come?" Tony shook his head, so she turned to McGee. "Timmy?"

McGee couldn't resist her pleading face, so he stood up, tugging on his wide-brim hat. "Okay, but only for a minute. You know how I burn."

Abby nodded eagerly, tugging him by the sleeve. "We can reenact the Titanic!"

"No icebergs please Abs," Tony called, sitting back down with Ducky and Palmer.

The water was calm and pleasant. Eventually Gibbs slowed the boat, stopping in the middle of the water. "Lunchtime!" Tony said, rubbing his hands as he wandered into the cabin of the boat. It was equipped with a full kitchen, but he rarely cooked in his own kitchen, let alone on a yacht. Instead Abby had packed them a picnic lunch and he'd stocked up on the beer.

"This is awesome Tony," Abby said as they sat down to lunch. Tony nodded in agreement.

"Well, make the most of it. This is the only chance you'll get."

"What do you mean?" McGee said.

Tony smiled. "Its called a loop-hole, Probilicious. My father's will stated that I have to accept the boat in order to get the 300 grand for charity. Didn't say how long I have to keep it. So I'm selling it. Already got a buyer lined up."

"How much is this worth?" Palmer asked, looking around the cavernous dining area.

Tony shrugged. "At least a million, I guess. I don't really care, its all going to charity. Cancer research, spinal injury association, RSPCA, Salvation Army, World Vision, Abby's already made a list of them."

"Very noble, dear boy." Ducky beamed at him. Tony stood up, stretching.

"Thanks Duck, but I'd just like to think that my father could do some good in this world dead, even if he just made it worse when he was alive." He flipped the top off a beer, passing another one to Ziva.

Days off were rare in the NCIS office, notoriously rare when Gibbs is team captain and so they reluctantly turned the yacht around as the day began to fade. "Boss, why do we have to work the weekend shift, _again_?" Tony grumbled as they approached the marina.

"Big plans for the weekend, Tony?" Ziva said, standing beside him. Tony gripped the wheel a little tighter, not keen to let her near it again.

"Wouldn't you like to know," He teased.

"…well yes, I just asked didn't I," Ziva replied. Her hand snaked out, grabbing the wheel. Tony relented, standing back to let her drive. He left her to it, going down to the back to secure the jet-ski properly after Abby and Jimmy had been out riding it. Tony figured Ziva couldn't do any major damage inside the marina anyway, since there was a low speed limit.

He was wrong.

As they rounded the corner to the berth designated for Tony's yacht she accelerated sharply, tossing everyone around. Ducky and McGee were already sitting and were only jostled by the motion. Jimmy was thrown into the kitchen bench inside the cabin, but grabbed onto it before he went any further. Abby fell onto the bed in the bedroom where she was dressing. Gibbs stayed perfectly still, the momentum not even ruffling him. Tony wasn't so lucky. Crouched at the very end of the yacht as he tightened the straps holding down the jet-ski, the sharp turn of the boat literally sent him flying. He yelped, arms flailing as he flew backwards.

Tony's body landed in the water with a huge splash, drowned out by the roar of the motors as the yacht sailed away.

_TBC_

_  
Hahahaha… this chapter would have to be the cheesiest thing I've ever written! Cheesier than a mozzarella pizza! Heh heh… and just when you thought I was going soft, a whole chapter without any emotional or physical Tony-bashing (and I even made his knee all better!!!)… I go and drown him! Couldn't resist. You know you love an injured Tony. Especially a wet injured Tony. Seriously, you can't argue with that :P Reviews?_


	22. Chapter 22

_Everything in the last chapter took place six weeks after Tony hurt his knee. For some reason this website deleted the line that read 6 Weeks Later_. _I've updated it now, just wanted to make a note to avoid confusion (because even I know that a torn knee ligament isn't gonna heal in 4 days!)_

* * *

_A/N: It's official - I'm a sucker for reviews. 3 chapters in as many days... it's hard not to update when you guys are spoiling me with reviews :) Ya know, I've become so mean to Ziva in this story! Believe it or not, I actually really like Ziva… I'm just not very good at showing it. Hope you like!_

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Abby emerged from the cabin of the yacht just as Gibbs was docking it safely in the berth. Ziva stood to the side glowering after Gibbs took over the wheel.

"Aww, we're back already?" Abby said, now dry and dressed in a breezy black miniskirt and a white singlet top, her still-wet black hair hanging at her shoulders. "We never even got to fire up the hot tub!"

"Sorry Abs," Gibbs said with a smile. "Early start tomorrow, I need my team well-rested." He stuck his head through the doorway to the cabin. "Where's DiNozzo? Tell him to hurry up, I'd like to get home sometime tonight."

Abby looked confused. "I thought he was out here. He's definitely not inside, I know, I've been snooping through Daddy DiNozzo's stuff. Lots of interesting stuff in his private rooms, but no Tony."

"So where is he?" McGee said, joining the conversation.

"Uh, I thought he was going to tie down the jet-ski?" Jimmy said, toweling his wet curly hair. Gibbs shot a death-look at Ziva, jumping down the stairs to the back of the boat. Sure enough, the jet-ski was still there, safely secured, but no Tony.

"DiNozzo…" Gibbs growled, trying to look through the rapidly darkening afternoon sky. He saw a glint of something in the water and grabbed a net from the side of the boat, fishing out the object. Tony's aviator sunglasses. "Goddamn it, Ziva." Gibbs muttered. He turned back to the group gathered on the top deck of the yacht. "McGee, Palmer, get the dinghy in the water. Abby, find me a torch. Powerful one. Ducky, I need some towels. And you – " He pointed at Ziva. "Don't touch anything. I think Tony's in the water somewhere. We need to find him, now. The water cools quickly once its dark and Tony already has some respiratory issues after getting the plague."

Everyone got busy carrying out their assigned tasks. "Ziva, run through the boat. Make sure Tony's not hiding somewhere." Gibbs said as he was about to get into the dinghy. "God help him if he is," He added to himself.

McGee and Palmer, who surprisingly was a strong swimmer, climbed into the dinghy with Gibbs, McGee steering the boat as Gibbs and Palmer looked out the front with the torch. "Slow down, McGee," Gibbs ordered as they approached the area where Ziva had decided to show off her boat-steering skills. The water was only just beginning to settle, but Gibbs could see the clusters of rocks just below the surface of the water to the side.

"Special Agent Gibbs, what's that?" Palmer said, pointing to a floating object in the water. Gibbs shone the flashlight on it. Just a plastic bag.

"Screw this," Gibbs said, pulling off his shoes and handing the flashlight to McGee. "I'm going in." His face was expressionless as he dived smoothly into the slightly oily water, but his mind was racing. By his count, the last time anyone had seen Tony was over five minutes ago. It was dark, so they could've easily missed him on the rocks surrounding the marina, but Gibbs wasn't taking any chances if his man was in the water. He kicked his legs, powering through the water. In the dark he was swimming almost blind and had zero chance of seeing anything beneath the surface of the water, so if he was going to find Tony he'd have to feel for him.

The water was bitterly crisp and Gibbs grimaced as the petrol-coated water splashed him in the face. "McGee! You see anything?" He yelled over the hum of the dinghy's motor, his voice slightly hoarse in the breeze.

"Sorry boss!" McGee yelled back. "Still looking."

Gibbs treaded water, staring frustratedly through the thickening darkness for what seemed like hours but in reality was only a minute or two. Then he saw it, a flash of white as McGee swung the flashlight desperately.

"McGee! That way!" Gibbs pulled a soggy arm out of the water, pointing in the direction of the white he'd seen. Palmer steered the dinghy to Gibbs and they pulled him onboard. Gibbs shook his head sending droplets of salty water all over the other passengers of the dinghy. "Faster, Palmer!"

Gibbs grabbed the flashlight, shining into the darkness. He saw it again, something white floating in the water. The waves bumped whatever it was gently against the rocks bordering the docking area. As they drew closer the lump in Gibbs' stomach grew heavier. It was definitely a body. And if it was Tony, he'd floated a lot further than they'd expected in the short time he'd been in the water.

Finally the dinghy drew up close to the body. Gibbs leapt out into the water again, pulling himself over to it. He grabbed the head which was face-down in the water, pulling it back. He couldn't stifle the gasp, unable to decide if he should feel relieved or horrified. It was Tony, deathly pale, his body floppy like a rag-doll. Gibbs held Tony's head out of the water, pulling his body closer to try and warm his senior field agent.

"McGee, Palmer, help me get him up." Gently, the three pairs of hands pulled Tony, weighed down with the water, out of the sea and into the rubber dinghy. Gibbs climbed in after, supporting Tony's head with both hands.

"Back to the boat, now." Gibbs ordered. Palmer steered, McGee grabbing the flashlight again and shining it on Tony's limp body. Gibbs searched for a pulse, the knot in his chest loosening slightly as he located one. Weak, very weak, but a pulse nonetheless. Tony was still alive. In the light, Gibbs took a quick look at Tony's injuries. Laceration to the forehead, right arm was definitely broken in at least two places. Apart from that, no other major injuries evident.

The dinghy pulled up to the back of the yacht. Abby, Ziva and Ducky let out a collective gasp of shock as Gibbs and McGee carried Tony onboard, still supporting his head.

"Ziva, call an ambulance." Gibbs said as he tilted Tony's head back to start CPR.

"Found him face down," he said inbetween breaths. "He's cold as ice."

Ducky nodded, he and Abby piling on the towels to cover Tony's pale body. Abby wrapped a towel around Gibbs' shoulders, pulling him back as Jimmy took over the CPR.

"Ambulance is on their way. ETA is approximately five minutes," Ziva said solemnly.

"That's too long." Gibbs said.

Ducky nodded. "Let me." He took Jimmy's place, but instead of breathing for Tony, he pounded down on Tony's abdomen. Nothing happened, apart from Abby flinching. Ducky repeated the action.

Tony gasped suddenly, spewing out water. Ducky smiled, supporting Tony's head and turning it to the side. "Welcome back, my boy." Abby squatted down, grabbing Tony's wet hand and squeezing it tightly. McGee and Palmer stood to the side, looking immensely relieved. Ziva stood back, looking immensely guilty. Gibbs stood over Tony, the creases still lining his face.

With Tony breathing for himself, Ducky turned his attention to Tony's injuries. The head wound was his primary concern. "Lie back, Tony." He said as Tony tried to move. Tony winced in pain as he accidentally moved his right arm, still breathing in short gasps.

"Ambulance is here," McGee reported as he saw two paramedics jogging down the pathway with the stretcher.

"Okay. We need to move him ashore." Ducky said, straightening up. "Abigail, Ziva, Mr Palmer, I need you on the path to help us transfer him. McGee, you take Tony's feet. Gibbs and I will take his shoulders."

Assuming their positions, Ducky, Gibbs and McGee picked Tony up, Tony grunting weakly from the motion. McGee went first, backing off the boat onto the landing with Ziva and Abby's help. The paramedics arrived as Gibbs and Ducky shuffled slowly off the boat to minimize the pain caused by the motion. They placed him straight onto the stretcher, covering him with blankets as Ducky filled the paramedics in on the medical details.

"We need to get him straight to hospital," the lead paramedic said, tucking another blanket over Tony. "He's already showing signs of hypothermia." Ducky nodded in agreement, running alongside the paramedics as they wheeled Tony up to the ambulance. Abby, McGee and Palmer followed closely behind. Which left Gibbs and Ziva, standing by the yacht.

"Gibbs, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I don't give a damn what you meant to do." Gibbs said sharply. "What you did was reckless. Tony almost died."

"I know. I didn't realise he was-"

"Don't want to hear it." Gibbs cut her off again. "Harming a terrorist, harming a drug dealer, harming a pedophile, yeah I can overlook that. Harming a federal agent, harming a team member, harming a _**friend**_ – that's inexcusable." Gibbs gave her a final death-look, turning on his heel and storming after the paramedics.

_TBC_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

"Tell me what you know Duck," Gibbs said, jogging through the entrance of the ER. He was still dripping wet, his shoes squeaking on the shiny hospital floor. McGee, Palmer, a miserable Abby and a forlorn Ziva followed him in, Ducky having traveled with Tony in the ambulance.

"He's stable, Gibbs. We managed to raise his temperature in the ambulance; however pneumonia is still a concern considering the condition of his lungs. The contusion on his head will require stitches, but I believe should heal nicely with minimal scarring. His arm is another matter." Ducky frowned. "I haven't seen the x-rays yet, but I can definitely tell you there is a break in the humerus with a possible fracture to the radius. I also suspect he has injured the carpal or metacarpal bones in his hands."

"Okay," Gibbs said as Abby engulfed Ducky in a massive bear hug. "So where is he?"

"Oh," said Ducky as Abby allowed him to breathe. "They took him immediately to surgery to correct his arm bones." He turned to look for a nurse to get an update, but cast a disapproving grandfatherly look over the group standing before him. Gibbs was sopping wet, a puddle forming under his feet. McGee and Palmer were both slightly damp from the splash of the waves in the dinghy and from pulling both Gibbs and Tony out of the water. Abby was shivering slightly as well, her clothes still wet after she'd draped herself over Tony to warm him up.

"However I can ascertain that our star-crossed friend will not be out of surgery for at least an hour." Ducky said. "In the meantime, I suggest that all of you find something dry to wear and something warm to eat. It won't do for you all to catch colds."

Gibbs nodded. "I could say the same to you, Duck." Ducky was also wet from working on Tony and from transporting him off the yacht.

"I'll bring you some dry clothes." Palmer offered

"Thank you Mr Palmer." Ducky turned and left to check on Tony in the operating theatre. Under Gibbs' relentless glare the rest of the team headed back out the door, under orders not to return until they were dry. Once everyone was gone Gibbs ran a hand through his hair, shaking the droplets off onto the people sitting around him in the waiting room. "DiNozzo…" He muttered, filling a paper cup with the soup-like slime that passed for coffee in the hospital.

Ducky returned just over forty minutes later when Gibbs was just finishing his third cup of slime. He wasn't surprised to see Gibbs standing in the middle of the waiting room, still in the same sea-salty clothes he'd come in with.

"Tony's just been brought out to recovery. The surgeon inserted a metal plate in his upper arm to secure the bones." Ducky told Gibbs. "And I was correct; he has a hairline fracture to his radius as well as several broken bones in his hands. It appears young Tony landed on some rocks when he was thrown off the boat. We'll have to wait for him to wake up from the anaesthetic, but I suspect he will have sustained a concussion as the hit to the head was enough to knock him out."

Gibbs growled under his breath, taking a sip of his cold, syrupy coffee. "Another concussion. This shouldn't have happened Duck."

"I know Jethro, but it was an accident."

"Well if you ask me, Tony's been having a few too many of these 'accidents' lately."

The sliding doors of the waiting room opened again and McGee, Abby, Palmer and Ziva walked through dressed in clean, dry clothes. Palmer handed Ducky a bag of new clothes. Abby passed Gibbs a tall coffee, sucking on the straw of a super-sized Caff-Pow.

"Good timing everyone." Ducky said, smiling at them all. "Tony's surgery has finished and they're moving him to a private room as we speak."

"Is it - is it serious Doctor Mallard?" Ziva said quietly.

Ducky put his arm around her shoulders. "A broken arm and a bump on the head my dear. I do believe Tony has endured a lot worse."

That didn't make Ziva feel any better, nor did the icy looks Gibbs and Abby sent her as they walked to Tony's room.

"He's just waking up. Go on in," a friendly young nurse said to the group as she came out of Tony's room.

Gibbs resisted the urge to laugh out loud as he saw his senior field agent lying in the bed. Tony's arm was covered in a huge white plaster cast from shoulder to hand, a thick white bandage wrapped around his forehead. To add to that, he was just coming out of the anaesthetic-induced haze, rubbing his eyes with one hand and looking thoroughly confused.

"What the hell, boss?" Tony asked sleepily as his eyes met up with Gibbs and the familiar face registered. "I can't move my right arm."

"Look down Tony." Gibbs said with a smirk. Still dopey, Tony tilted his head downwards and finally noticed the plaster cast which was suspended in a sling on a stand next to the bed.

"Crap…" Tony moaned, closing his eyes. "I really hate desk duty."

Abby crawled beside him on the bed, conjuring a sharpie from who knows where. Cap between teeth, she scrawled her name artistically across the cast, completing it with a little love heart at the end. "Much better," she said amicably, adjusting the bandage on Tony's head. "Anyone else wanna sign?" She held out the pen.

Palmer took it, stepping forward and looking to Tony for reassurance that he could sign the cast. "Go for it Jimmy," Tony said wearily. "And while you're at it, anyone mind telling me what happened? And why my arm suddenly weighs a ton?"

As Abby began the tale, Ziva shifted uncomfortably on her feet at the back of the room. Tony could be a chauvinistic pig at times, but he was never outright mean to her. He was one of the few people in Washington who she considered to be her friend, but after what had happened she wouldn't blame him if he hated her.

"Heh!" Tony said sleepily as Abby finished filling him in. It had taken her a while to get to the end, punctuating each sentence with her own opinion and random comments, inevitably getting sidetracked several times.

Ziva looked up from staring at her feet as she heard Tony laugh. Tony's eyes met hers. "I always say that your driving is gonna get me killed. Now do you believe me at least?"

Ziva stared at Tony, but could find no trace of ill-will in his face. In fact, he looked almost … friendly! Tony was a jokester at the best of times, but in his concussed and drugged state, she knew he wasn't being sarcastic. Tony didn't hate her, even though she could have killed him.

"Aren't you gonna sign?" Tony's good arm held out the marker pen, his eyes drooping as he spoke. Ziva gave him a small smile, stepping forward to sign. As Abby had told her tale McGee, Ducky and even Gibbs had had a turn signing Tony's cast. Ziva chuckled to herself as she thought of just how many signatures, especially those belonging to females, Tony would collect by the time his cast would be removed. She wrote her name and a 'get well' message on a small patch of plaster, and by the time she recapped her pen Tony was asleep.

_TBC_

_A/N: 4 updates in 4 days... surely that earns me a review? Go on, you know you want to :) I figured it was about time I gave Ziva a break, although don't think for a minute that Gibbs and Abby are going to be as forgiving as Tony! On a completely random note, who's excited about the NCIS season 5 premiere? I am!! Despite the fact that I'm on the opposite side of the world... i just have to wait for a kind soul who will upload the ep to YouTube for me (hint, hint). Heh. _


	24. Chapter 24

_Ya know what I love (apart from reviews)? Watching an NCIS box set and discovering there's an episode you've never seen, then getting to watch new NCIS even though the season's over. Yep, I just discovered I've never seen 'Seadog' from Season 1. Lol it was funny. Same thing happened to me with Hiatus Part 1. And I call myself an obsessive NCIS fan…_

_Yeah, that was random. On with the story!_

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"Fricking concussion," Tony muttered to himself as Abby pushed him toward the hospital door in the mandatory wheelchair. "Whoah… where are we going Abs?" He yelped as she tipped the wheelchair back, pushing him wheelie-style.

"Well that's up to you, Tony-boy." Abby replied, ignoring his protests. "Only one team member is required to be in the office for the weekend shift, and no prizes for guessing who Gibbs selected."

"Ziva," Tony said with a sigh.

"Bingo. So, as I was saying, the choice is yours. We can go to your house, we can go to my house, we can go hang with Gibbs, we can go annoy McGee, we can go visit Ducky and his mother, or … actually I'm not really sure where Palmer lives. But – we could find out, and go surprise Jimmy. Which one?" They reached the entrance of the hospital and Tony gratefully pulled himself out of the wheelchair.

"Mmm well McGee does sound tempting, but I think I'd rather just go to my place."

Abby pouted at him. "That's no fun. Everyone's feeling sorry for you, we should be taking advantage of this. We can annoy them all to the point of no return, but they won't shoot you, because you're all bandaged and pathetic-looking."

"Thanks Abs," Tony said with a wince, his good hand automatically going up to the big white bandage around his head the doctors had insisted he wear.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Your place it is. But only because you really do look pathetic." Abby grabbed his hand, dragging him to her hearse.

Alone in the practically empty NCIS building, Ziva sighed, clicking open her email inbox for lack of something more productive to do. Weekend shifts dragged on forever, today especially. She looked down at the clock in the corner of the computer screen. Barely midday. Ziva sighed again, directing her eyes back to her emails. Just the usual; memos from Cynthia the director's assistant… an email about office-wide computer updates from the tech department…a copy of the tox results from their last case courtesy of Abby… three emails from Tony. Ziva looked closer at the first one. It was sent on Thursday afternoon, the day before the team had gone boating. She smiled to herself as she read the dirty joke Tony'd sent her. She smiled even more as she saw who else he'd sent it to. Only Tony would have the guts to send a joke like that to McGee, Abby, Palmer, Lee, Ducky and even Gibbs! The second email was just as bad, a link to a video of a bear falling out of a tree and onto a trampoline. Also sent on Thursday afternoon. Also sent to the same people.

"Tony," she whispered to herself, trying not to break out in giggles in the middle of NCIS. That would be most unprofessional. She clicked on the third email. Sent… 15 minutes ago.

_Hey Zee-vah_

_Figured you'd probably read this, since there's nothing else to do on the weekend shift (I know, I'm usually the one Gibbs makes do it.) Just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us. What happened was an accident, although I'm pretty sure the cast will be a great draw-card with the ladies. Oh- and just so we're clear, you are never, ever, __ever__ touching my Mustang, okay?_

_Tony_

_PS: Abby and I organized something to brighten up your day in the office. Enjoy!_

Ziva closed her inbox, still smiling after reading Tony's messages. She busied with the Tetris game Tony'd attached to the email, getting so involved she didn't look up from her screen until twenty minutes later when her phone rang.

"Damn," She cursed as the window filled up with multi-coloured blocks. She picked up the phone, crossing her fingers that it wasn't a case. "Officer David."

"Uh- hey Ms David, this is Mike." The security guard from the NCIS building entrance.

"Mike, how are you," Ziva said warmly, happy for the distraction from the day's monotomy.

"G-Good," Mike said, trying not to feel intimidated by the Israeli assassin. "Officer David, there's a package down here for you."

Ziva frowned. "Has it passed through the radiation scanners and metal detectors?"

Mike chuckled nervously. "Uh… no. I think maybe you'd better come down here?"

Ziva shrugged and hung up, wandering down to the lobby. A man who looked to be about 20 years old was standing with Mike. He wore a bright red shirt and cap, looking slightly ruffled next to the burly bald security guard.

"Here's your package," Mike said, handing her a box. "Think its safe to let the delivery guy go?"

Ziva looked down at the large box in her hands, then laughed. "Yes. Thank you." She returned to the lift, her curiosity getting the better of her as she opened up the box. A strong smell wafted toward her. Family sized pizza with extra cheese. The Tony DiNozzo special.

At the same moment in various places around town, Gibbs was hard at work on his boat. McGee was holding his hands over his typewriter, trying to figure out an ending for his latest chapter. Ducky was feeding his mother's dogs. Palmer was tuning a piano somewhere. And Abby and Tony were embroiled in a particularly intense game of Halo 3. Well, Abby was at least. Tony was watching, since the huge cast and broken hand prevented him from holding a controller.

"Take that, Flood. You don't mess with Master Chief!" Abby screamed, waving her controller wildly and jumping up and down on the sofa as she blew up the creepy aliens with a rocket launcher. Tony sat quietly to the side, bored but still awake due to the explosion sounds blasting out of the speakers every ten seconds.

"Abby, I'm gonna hit the hay," he said finally, getting up. Abby nodded, not stopping to pause the game.

"Sleep well. I'll come wake you in two hours."

Tony smiled. He'd just got the game, but in two hours she'd probably be finished it. It'd take him at least twice as long. He closed the bedroom door, muffling but not muting the sounds of the video game. He didn't mind. He'd lived in a college dorm full of footballers for several years, he could sleep with the noise of the XBOX in the background. As he propped pillows under his arm and closed his eyes, the last thing on Tony's mind was the nightmares that would soon plague him.

_TBC_

_Well wasn't that a particularly foreboding ending. Ha ha. I'm evil to my Tony-boy. But hey, I'm 5 for 5. Probably can't keep this up anymore (can you believe I have an assignment to do in the school holidays? Due on the first day back at school!?! Gah!) but I will surely try. Anyways, thanks for still reading and thanks for all the reviews. Enjoy 'Bury Your Dead' lucky US readers!_


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Don't worry, its not another chapter full of nightmares… Thanks to all the readers and reviewers. Appreciate it!_

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"You look like hell DiNozzo."

"Why are you in my kitchen?" Tony said, rubbing at his eyes with his hand that wasn't currently swathed in thick white plaster.

"Relieving Abby." Gibbs answered succinctly.

"For what?"

"Tony-watch!" Abby bounded into the kitchen, handbag looped on the crook of her arm. She pecked him on the cheek. "Stay out of trouble."

"Since when do I ever go looking for trouble?" Tony called after her as she left. "And why do I need a sitter?"

"You might not go looking for trouble, but you sure do find it," Gibbs said, munching on toast. He pushed a chair out for Tony with his foot. "Sit down."

"Its not my fault," Tony muttered, scratching at the cast.

"I don't think I've ever met an NCIS agent with luck like yours, DiNozzo. Think about it. In the past two months you've had two broken bones, fallen down a hill, torn ligaments in your knee, had stitches in your head twice, had a concussion twice, broken your arm in two places and broken your hand. And it's been a relatively quiet two months."

Tony frowned at Gibbs across the table. "I never got hurt this much working at Baltimore. Or Philly. Or Peoria. Maybe it's just you."

"Must be," Gibbs grinned as he stood up and pushed two pieces of bread down in the toaster. He poured a glass of milk out for Tony, placing it in front of him on the table along with a bottle of pills.

"I know how you feel about pills, Tony. But I also know it feels to have broken bones, let alone four bones in the one arm. No-one's gonna think any less of you if you take the pills, and I'll be here if you need me."

Tony drank the milk warily, not even looking at the pills. Gibbs was just trying to help, but he didn't really understand. "Thanks but no thanks, boss. I was considering going back to bed anyway. Arm's not too bad."

Gibbs accepted that, plucking up the bottle of pills and dropping the toast on Tony's plate. "Fair enough, but you're not getting out of eating. Two pieces of toast and you can go back to sleep."

Tony glared at him, but picked up a slice and bit in gingerly. "You don't have to stay," he said through a mouthful of bread. "I can look after myself." He swallowed. "I mean, I'm just going to be here. Not like I'm planning on going bungy-jumping or white water rafting or driving with Ziva or anything else that's going to place me in peril anytime soon."

"You're one of mine, Tony. I look after my own regardless of whether they need it or not. But you – you need it." He propped Tony up as he slumped a little, falling asleep in the chair.

"C'mon." Gibbs pulled him up, supporting his un-injured arm as he led Tony back to the bedroom and sat him on the bed. "There you go." He tucked a pillow under the broken arm. "Just yell if you need something. I'll be here."

Eight hours and three concussion checks later, Tony stumbled out of the bedroom again, hair considerably tousled.

"You don't look so good," A voice said, surprising Tony as he wandered into the living room. Although 'not so good' was an improvement on looking like 'hell', Tony reasoned. He looked for the source of the voice.

"McGee."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Nah," Tony sat down at the dining table again, searching for a clock. "How long you been here?"

"About an hour. It's almost 5 o'clock." McGee said, folding the newspaper he'd been reading.

"am?"

"pm. Its Sunday afternoon."

"Oh." 8 hours of sleep had made Tony feel considerably better, the residual traces of the concussion all but gone. He was almost feeling hungry, but settled for a glass of juice. "Anything interesting been happening?"

"Nothing." McGee said, sitting down next to Tony. "It's been a while since we've had a peaceful weekend like this."

"Relatively peaceful," Tony pointed out.

"Relatively, right. But we've been on call and there haven't been any cases. That's pretty lucky."

Tony nodded slightly, smiling. Knowing Gibbs, after Tony's accident he'd probably arranged for a secondary team to be on call just so his team wouldn't be bothered over the weekend. Which meant forcing Ziva to stay in the office all weekend really wasn't necessary.

"He's a bastard for sure," Tony muttered to himself. Gibbs really was punishing Ziva. Tony's cell phone chirped on the coffee table where he'd left it. McGee grabbed it for him.

"Speak of the devil," Tony said, reading the caller ID panel. "Hey boss." He cocked his head to one side, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder and freeing up his hand to scratch at the cast. "Heh… do you even need to ask boss? ...Right."

He snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the bench. "Gibbs called to tell me I don't have to come in to work tomorrow. He does that every time I get injured, every time I tell him the same thing. No."

"Why don't you take it?" McGee wondered. "What's wrong with having the day off?"

"Don't need it," Tony replied swiftly. "Plus, it's boring."

McGee had had time to gaze around Tony's apartment while he was sleeping, and in his opinion the shelves of DVDs, racks of CDs, plasma screen, XBOX, stacks of magazines and Tony's very interesting book collection were anything but boring. Still, his idea of fun was spending the night at his typewriter so he supposed he was in no position to comment. Luckily the doorbell rang before McGee had to think of a reply.

"Who's that?"

"Delivery guy," McGee said, grabbing a couple of notes from his wallet. He exchanged them for a bag of food at the door. "Abby told me to order it. She figured the nausea from the concussion would be just about worn off by the time you woke up." He held up the bag. "I hope Thai's okay?"

"Nice work McGee!" Tony said, feeling very hungry all of a sudden. "Hope you got the spring rolls!"

_TBC_

_A/N: I was hoping to get to 30 chapters with this story, but I kinda feel like its running out of life... Comments? Thoughts? I think I've got about two or three chapters left to write, but if anyone's got any ideas of how I can next torture Tony please let me know :) I'm not -quite- ready to lay this story to rest._


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

"Excuse me Ma'am."

Ziva's head shot up sharply.

"Ohhhh…" Tony said softly across the bullpen, exchanging a glance with McGee. Everybody in NCIS and quite possibly in all of Washington knew how Ziva felt about being called Ma'am.

"My name is Officer Ziva David, Mossad." She said, shooting the man standing before her a bitter death-look. "You will call me Officer David. Ms David if you must. Never, ever call me Ma'am."

The man in the suit gulped. "Sorry, Officer David." He fiddled nervously with his NCIS visitor badge under Ziva's brutal glare. "I was just looking for Anthony DiNozzo. Could you point me in the right direction?"

Ziva pursed her lips, still staring at him. Without lifting her eyes, she pointed her finger straight ahead.

Tony waved a hand. "What up?"

With his back to Ziva, the man regained his composure, smoothing his tie. "Anthony DiNozzo?"

"Call me Tony. Please."

The man offered a hand. "Joseph Stoker. Pleasure to meet you." He looked slightly amused at the flowers, lovehearts and lipstick kisses covering Tony's cast, courtesy of the female members of NCIS.

"Sure," Tony shook his hand somewhat awkwardly, looking a little unsure. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping we could talk," Joseph said.

"We already are."

"In private, Tony."

Tony cast a look around him. McGee was typing at his desk. Ziva was writing in a file. Gibbs had his back to the room, talking on the phone but Tony had no doubt he was completely aware of everything happening behind him.

"Sorry Joe, can't leave. We're kinda busy here, what with being federal agents and all. What did you want to talk about anyway? I don't think we've ever met, have we?" Tony said, hoping he wasn't the big brother or new boyfriend of one of the girls he'd dated looking for payback.

"I'm a writer. A biographer to be exact. I wanted to talk to you about Anthony DiNozzo Senior, your father."

Tony froze, paling visibly. In a second, Gibbs was up and moving. "DiNozzo, with me." Tony didn't even remember him hanging up the phone.

"I- I've gotta go." Tony stood up, quickly following his boss.

"Well…I guess I'll talk to you later," Joseph called after Tony's retreating form.

"No you won't," Ziva said, standing up and moving face to face with the writer. He seemed to shrink under her gaze. "You will leave here now. And you will never contact Tony again. Ever. Got it?"

Joseph nodded slowly. Ziva poked him in the arm with an extended finger. "Go. Now."

He scrambled to get away.

"Stupid imbecile," Ziva muttered under her breath. McGee stood beside her, watching the man leave.

"I wonder how he even got in here. You need valid reason to be issued a visitor's pass."

"He's a writer, McGee. They're all seasoned liars."

McGee gulped at her tone of voice, not wanting to argue with her. "Wonder where they went? Did you see how pale Tony was?"

"His father has been somewhat of a sensitive topic for him lately, McGee. Have you noticed how Gibbs has refrained from asking Tony to interview any fathers on cases since Tony's dad passed away?"

McGee hadn't, but it did make sense. Whenever they were out talking to suspects, families and witnesses, Gibbs had always specifically ordered either Ziva or McGee to talk to the fathers.

"We should call Abby. She'll want to know about this." Ziva said, reaching for her phone.

"Don't bother." McGee replied.

Abby seemed to have a sixth sense when anything involving Tony was concerned. Initially McGee'd been jealous, an outsider observing the tight bond between them. But once he'd gotten to know both Abby and Tony, he realized that they were just very good friends, there was nothing remotely sexual between them. They were a good pair, minds operating on the same quirky wavelength.

"She'll already know."

-------------------------

"Here," Gibbs said, passing Tony a steaming cup. "It's coffee. Or at least the liquid you call coffee, what with all the hazelnut and sugar you insist on adding."

Tony took the cup, managing a smile for Gibbs. "Sorry for freaking out like that. It's just… I want to forget about all that shit, move on with my life. It's like he's following me. He doesn't contact me for twenty years when he's alive, but now that he's dead I can't escape it. "

"You been having nightmares about him again?" Gibbs said, concerned.

Tony glanced at him, like he was making sure Gibbs was being serious. "Yeah," he said with a resigned sigh.

"How often?"

"Nothing for almost six weeks after he died. But then, on Saturday night. Abby already told you, right?"

Gibbs conceded with a nod. Abby hadn't wanted to betray Tony's trust or confidence, but after watching her best friend thrashing and sweating in the grip of an obviously horrific dream she'd needed someone to talk to. And Gibbs was the only person she trusted enough to talk to about something like that.

"Any more after that?"

Tony stared down at the coffee cup he held in his left hand. "Last night. I don't know why this affects me so much, it doesn't happen if I don't think of him."

"Guessing you're not planning on sleeping tonight then, after today's little event."

Tony's lip curled in an almost-smile. "James Bond marathon, I was thinking."

"Tony, I know your feelings on the matter but we have to do something about this." He paused as Tony stiffened visibly. "I know you can't help it, but I can't afford to have my senior field agent - my partner - sleep deprived in the field. I need to know you have my six, always."

"I do boss." Tony said, meeting Gibbs' eyes for the first time during their conversation. "I won't let it affect me."

"It already is," Gibbs said. He didn't remotely enjoy what he was saying, but he needed to get it out there. He needed Tony to be able to move on. "DiNozzo, you just about fainted ten minutes ago when a journalist mentioned your father's name. You are far from over this, and that's not where I need you to be. You need your head in the game if you plan on staying on my team."

Tony's head dropped down again and Gibbs could almost feel the tension emanating through the younger man's body.

"There's a woman I know. She helped me, after my stints in the combat. After Shannon and Kelly," Gibbs' fingers tightened around the coffee cup in his hand. "After the explosion. If you would just talk to-"

Tony stood up, still clenching his half-empty paper cup. "-talk to her. Sure Gibbs, I'll just sit down with a strange woman and tell her problems and she'll make everything better. Riiight. We already tried that, remember. Didn't turn out so well as I recall." He brushed a hand across his forehead, his eyes dark with anger. "Thanks for the coffee boss." He dropped the coffee cup into the bin beside the bench they'd been sitting on and stormed back across into the Navy Yard.

_TBC_

_Angsty! Thanks for your feedback and input, I haven't made an executive decision about this fic, I'm gonna take it a chapter at a time, see how it goes :) Hope you liked!_


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs said a little breathlessly as he entered the bullpen after chasing Tony back into the building. McGee and Ziva glanced up at him, surprised.

"Haven't seen him boss," McGee answered.

"Abby." Gibbs said to himself. "What happened to that writer guy?"

"He won't bother Tony again," Ziva said simply.

"Ziva took care of it," McGee added.

Gibbs gave Ziva a friendly look for the first time since the boating incident. "Nice work." He knew that if Ziva had, as McGee'd put it, _taken care of the problem_, there was zero chance any of them would ever see let alone hear from the journalist ever again.

"I'm going for coffee." Gibbs turned and left abruptly.

"Didn't you – " Ziva turned to McGee. "Didn't he _just_ go for coffee?"

McGee shrugged. "Guess the caffeine's worn off already?"

--------------------------

"Seen Tony Abs?" Gibbs said, turning down the music as he entered the lab.

"Nope," Abby said, bent over her mass spectrometer. She pushed a button on it and spun around. "Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Gibbs said quickly. "Tell him to call me if you see him."

Abby continued to stare at Gibbs as he retreated to the elevator. He pressed the button to take him to the morgue as he wondered where Tony'd gone. He was definitely in the building, Gibbs had been a minute or two behind him but even at a distance he'd seen Tony come in. Abby had been his first guess, more often than not he would find Tony down there chatting to her. Then again, Tony hadn't exactly been in the mood for a chat, which was why Gibbs was on his way to see Ducky. He knew Tony came down on occasion to talk with the M.E. who saw Tony as a nephew or grandson.

Ducky and Palmer were bent over the remains of an exhumed body when Gibbs walked in. He stood at the door to avoid getting any closer to the smell of the decomposing body.

"Duck, you seen Tony lately?"

Ducky straightened up, stopping in the middle of one of his extended stories. "Hello Jethro. I don't believe I've seen young Tony at all today –" He paused to glance at his assistant.

"I saw him this morning when he arrived with Abby. She was giving him a lift, he can't drive with a broken arm you see, his car is a shift stick and with his arm in plaster-"

"-take that as a no." Gibbs muttered, interrupting Palmer.

"I do hope everything is alright, Jethro." Ducky said, but Gibbs was already gone.

The next and last place Gibbs could think of to look for Tony was the gym. It was where he went after a particularly bad case, taking his anger out on the poor punching bag. A few times it had been so intense that Gibbs had had to pull him away to stop him hurting himself. But with a broken arm, there was no reason to be down there. Or so Gibbs hoped. The last thing Tony needed was two broken hands. Heaven help them both if Gibbs did catch him at the boxing bag.

Thankfully the gym was empty. Gibbs was glad, he didn't relish the idea of tearing into Tony twice in one day, let alone in the space of one hour. But Tony could be impulsive, unpredictable when he was angry. Sometimes Gibbs had to be hard, had to be cruel to get through to him.

Having failed so far in his attempts to locate Tony, Gibbs pushed the button for the elevator, planning on returning to the bullpen and waiting for Tony to cool down and come back of his own accord. He obviously didn't want to talk and he didn't want to be found. Gibbs jabbed the button again impatiently. After 5 minutes the elevator still hadn't arrived. He wondered if some of the other NCIS employees had started using his 'conference room'. Fed up with waiting, Gibbs pushed open the door to the stairwell and began climbing the three flights to his floor.

He made it as far as two flights when he heard something. Breathing. It was quiet, barely audible but his training as a marine had made him hyper-aware of the presence of people around him. Slowly, not wanting to disturb whoever it was, he rounded the corner. Tony, sitting in the middle of the stairs.

"Hey boss," Tony said without looking up. Gibbs froze for a second, but smiled. He'd trained Tony well. He knew he hadn't made a sound, anything to alert Tony to his presence.

"I could smell the coffee on your breath as soon as you came in the stairwell. Its kinda strong." Tony said, reading Gibbs' mind. Another thing that impressed Gibbs about his senior field agent. Tony looked up, finally meeting Gibbs' eyes. He almost looked… embarrassed.

"Sorry about that little scene before Gibbs. I had no right to react like that."

Gibbs nodded. "What I tell you about apologizing?"

Tony laughed despite himself. "About what you were saying, I guess I could talk to your friend."

Gibbs sat down beside Tony on the concrete step. "I don't want to force you into anything Tony. It was just a suggestion. She's helped me through some of the toughest times in my life."

"I guess this all seems pretty stupid to you, me getting all worked up over my dead father after … all you've been through." Tony said quietly, looking down at his feet again.

Gibbs reached out, grabbing Tony's chin and turning his head to face him. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Tony. None of this is your fault. We're gonna get through this."

Tony's lip curled into a sheepish smile as Gibbs pulled his hand away. "Thanks boss."

Gibbs stood up. "Now c'mon!" He said, his voice mock-annoyed. "We've got work to do DiNozzo."

"Coming boss!" Tony said, jogging up the stairs after him.

The only sound in the bullpen was the sound of typing coming from both Ziva and McGee's computers. Suddenly the door to the stairwell burst open and Gibbs entered the bullpen, slightly breathless. Tony followed just after him, returning to his desk. Gibbs stood in the middle of the room, his eyes running over his three agents, hard at work. Without a case, the paperwork on his desk wasn't exactly appealing.

"I'm going for coffee," Gibbs said after a while, turning and heading to the elevator.

"Didn't he – " Ziva looked at McGee. "He just went for coffee!"

_TBC_

_Thanks for all your reviews and feedback. It really keeps me motivated :)_


	28. Chapter 28

_Sincere apologies for the delay in posting this. I decided it was about time I finished writing 'The Package' (which I'd been neglecting to write this). Then I got caught up in a NCIS-Stargate Atlantis crossover (coming soon!) fic I'm co-writing with a friend. Anyways, super-hugz to everyone who's been reviewing and thanks for reading :) I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

"You sure you want to do this?" Gibbs asked, his hands on the steering wheel.

"I'm sure boss. At least I think I'm sure," Tony said, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as the car screeched around the corner. By Gibbs' standard, he was driving relatively slowly but even then, compared to the other drivers on the road, he was driving like a maniac. Gibbs switched lanes without indicating, causing a station-wagon to slam on the brakes and press on the horn. Gibbs ignored it, or perhaps he didn't notice. His head was turned toward Tony in the passenger seat, placing one hand on Tony's shoulder.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, DiNozzo."

"Uh boss, the road." Tony said, wincing as they barely avoided a collision with a semi-trailer. "I'm fine, really. I need to do this."

Gibbs nodded and Tony sighed inaudibly with relief when he removed his hand from Tony's shoulder, returning it to the steering wheel. They pulled up shortly after in front of a small one-storey house. It was painted white with a lilac trim, flower beds bordering the front of the house.

"You sure this is it?"

"She's good, DiNozzo."

With only a short pause, Tony swung open the door, pulling himself out. "Okay then. Thanks for the lift, boss."

Gibbs tilted his head and Tony turned, walking slowly toward the front door of the house.

62 minutes later, the front door opened and Tony emerged from the house, blinking as the bright daylight assaulted his eyes. He put his sunglasses on, only just noticing Gibbs' car waiting on the road in front of him. He wandered up to the car, opening the passenger door and climbing in.

"Boss." Tony said, sounding slightly surprised. He wondered if Gibbs had been waiting for him the whole time or if he'd just come back. His question was answered when he saw the fresh cup of coffee resting in Gibbs hand. A paper bag lay on the middle console. "Don't you have to be at work?"

"Someone's gotta pick you up DiNozzo," Gibbs replied, dropping the paper bag on Tony's lap. Tony looked inside. A jelly donut. "How'd it go?"

"It was… good. Good I think." Tony said, biting into the donut. "She wants me to come back next week."

"Okay," Gibbs said, starting the engine. He was driving significantly slower than before, probably because he still had the cup of coffee in his hand. Tony guessed it was more about not wasting any coffee than it was fear of spilling the scalding liquid on himself.

They were almost two hours late when they walked into the bullpen, each taking their place at their desk. Ziva put down her telephone, looking at Tony in amazement.

"Where were you? I tried your home and your cell went straight to message."

Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. "Oh yeah. I forgot to turn it back on. "What are you guys so worried about anyway?"

"We didn't know where you guys were. I mean, it's only Ziva and I in the office and then the two of you come in two hours late," McGee said, sounding frustrated.

"You didn't try my cell," Gibbs said, pointing to the phone sitting on his desk.

"Yes but…" McGee flushed, trying to look busy.

"We… ah…" Ziva shuffled through some paperwork before giving up on replying altogether.

Tony smirked. His colleagues were afraid of calling the boss to ask why he was late. Although, he thought, that wasn't a call he would willingly make in their situation.

"So, you two have been here for two hours. Tell me what you've got." Gibbs said, reaching for his coffee.

"Ah…. "

"…We got nothing boss." McGee said, quickly glancing back down at his computer.

"We were waiting for you to tell us what to do." Ziva said with a small smile.

"Jesus… this is some dry spell. What, does nobody in the Navy commit crime anymore?" Tony pitched in.

Gibbs gave him an evil glare of death. "Are you implying that it's a bad thing we have no case right now, DiNozzo? Does it disappoint you that a Marine failed to get himself murdered this morning?"

"No boss… that's not what I was saying…." Tony joined in with Ziva and McGee's attempts of looking busy.

Gibbs smirked, lifting up a huge stack of files from the floor beside his desk. He deposited a third of the files on McGee's desk, a third on Tony's desk and the remainder in the middle of Ziva's desk.

"You want work? Cold cases."

He grabbing his empty coffee mug for a refill and stepped into the waiting elevator as the chorus of groans reached his ears.

_TBC_

* * *

_Yeah, uneventful I know but it's an update nonetheless :P Hey, did you notice THHK turns 2 months old tomorrow! How about a review to celebrate? Heh. I'll update again soon!_


	29. Chapter 29

_Hey guys! Yep, I said I'd update 'soon' and here it is. Haha. So, today we have several things to celebrate. Firstly, THHK is 2 months old today! And if that wasn't enough excitement for you (well for me at least), THHK has over 300 reviews! Wow! Thanks everyone! You have no idea how happy your reviews make me :) Hugs to you all. _

_There is a third thing to celebrate, but it takes place in the world of NCIS. Read on to find out!_

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

And so began one of the most boring mornings in the office Tony could remember. The only highlight being when Gibbs' cell phone randomly started playing a polyphonic ringtone of 'Jingle Bells' on repeat. After the third chorus, Gibbs had been so annoyed he crushed the phone with the butt of his gun, threw it on the floor and demanded that McGee reboot it for him. Tony and Ziva exchanged a barely-concealed look of delight before Gibbs stalked out of the bullpen, muttering about needing more coffee.

Once he was gone, McGee squatted over the remnants of the phone, trying to figure out why it had suddenly started playing the Christmas carol. Of course it had been crushed into oblivion, so McGee swept up the pieces and grabbed a box with a new cell phone out of the filing cabinet, announcing that it was simply a mystery. Tony smirked in his chair, tapping a pen on his plaster cast. He knew why the phone had started playing the song. Or at least he could guess.

Who else but Abby would be brave enough to touch Gibbs' cell phone, let alone program a ringtone? He figured she'd set it as an alarm, to play on repeat until someone specifically stopped it. Or crushed it. Whatever worked. What remained a mystery was why.

Before Tony could hurt himself thinking too hard, Abby popped up from behind the divider.

"Bossman gone?" She whispered, looking around suspiciously.

"Coast is clear, Abs." Tony said, looking bemused as she crept around the divider and into the bullpen. "What ya doing?"

She winked at him, pulling a huge, brightly wrapped box behind her. She held a large bottle in her other hand.

"Abby?" Ziva said, glancing up from her pile of cold cases. Abby pressed a finger to her black-coated lips, still dragging the present along. McGee was busy programming Gibbs' new phone (and deleting all the pre-set Christmas ringtones) when he saw Abby drag the box over to Gibbs' desk. She straightened up, then bent her knees and heaved the box onto his swivel chair, sitting the bottle on his desk.

McGee's eyes narrowed instantly. "You. The ringtone." He said, pointing directly at her.

She giggled, whispering "I had to get him out of here somehow."

"Uh, Abs, he's gone." Tony said, standing up and leaning on the front of his desk. "Why are you still whispering. And what's with the box?"

Abby gasped, hands on hips and frowned at Tony. "What do you mean, what's with the box? You forgot?"

"Forgot what, Abby?" McGee asked, not following. He looked across at Tony and Ziva who were equally confused.

"Have you had your recommended dosage of caffeine today Abs?" Tony said.

Abby looked around at the three agents, her frown growing as her eyes danced across each of them. "Oh my god. You really did forget. All three of you!" She pointed at McGee. "You're the computer expert. I would've thought you could've programmed a simple reminder or something at least." Her hand shifted across to Ziva. "And you. You're the assassin-spy-whatever. You speak, what, like eight different languages? And yet you couldn't remember this."

Her eyes narrowed and she directed her cold glare to Tony. "And you." She shook her head, reaching forward and slapping him across the head. "Of all people, I really thought you would remember."

She stood there, silently fuming for a moment before Tony was brave enough to interject.

"Abby, it's kind of obvious we've pissed you off, but you gotta help us out here. What did we forget?" He added his most charming smile to the end of the sentence and counted to three in his head.

1…..2…..3….

Abby sighed, smiling as she reached up to rub the spot she'd just slapped. "You really don't know? It's the Bossman's birthday today."

"Oh…" Tony said as he checked the date on his wristwatch and realized she was right.

"Ah.." Ziva said, nodding curtly.

"Right, of course." McGee said as he quietly pulled up Gibbs' NCIS file, confirming that it was indeed the boss' birthday.

"Well now you know." Abby said, cheerful again. "So no excuses."

She leaned over Tony's desk, seeing the time in the bottom corner of his computer screen. "Oh! I've gotta go. Gibbs left approximately ten minutes ago. He's gonna be back any minute now."

"He went for coffee," Ziva said. "That's a fifteen minute walk at least."

Abby grinned. "Not for Gibbs. He walks fast so the coffee stays hot. Oh, he's coming!" She quickly ducked behind the divider again. "No excuses!" She called back, crawling on hands and knees away from the bullpen.

One minute later, the elevator dinged and Gibbs strode forward, steaming coffee in hand. He wasn't at all surprised to see his cell phone, a little shinier than he remembered, sitting on the stack of papers on his desk. He was surprised to see a large, colourful box that had been placed on his chair, as well as a bottle and a plain white envelope propped on the computer keyboard.

Gibbs went for the box first. He'd never been one of those people who always read the cards first on birthdays and Christmas. And, judging by the wrapping paper (skeletons wearing party hats), this was definitely Abby's doing. He couldn't hold back a chuckle as he opened the flaps of the box and saw what was inside.

There was a huge stack of CDs Abby had burnt for him (presumably after hearing that Gibbs only listened to 5 songs). Next to that was a smaller version of Bert the farting hippo. Gibbs gave him a soft squeeze. Sure enough, it had the same skills as its big brother. He read the tag around the hippo's neck.

_This is Bernie. He'll watch over your boat just like Bert watches over my lab._

Gibbs smiled and placed him aside to see what was left in the box. A large packet of coffee beans and a voucher from his favourite coffee shop. Gibbs smiled again, repacking Bernie and the coffee beans in the box and setting it down beside his desk. The bottle on his desk was wrapped in cellophane, so he could see it was a bottle of Jack. Ducky, of course. Then he reached from the envelope. Inside was a plain, office standard piece of paper with a short typed message.

1900 hours at Casa de DiNozzo. Be there.

Gibbs folded the paper and replaced it in the envelope, looking up at his team who quickly busied themselves trying to look busy. He smirked, setting the envelope down and walking toward the elevator.

"Going to see Ducky and Abs," he called back.

Once he was safely gone, Tony and Ziva gathered around McGee's desk as he sent out an email inviting people to dinner. He sent it to Abby, Ducky, Palmer and even Lee for the heck of it.

"We're cooking birthday dinner for the boss…" Tony said with a wry smile. "Sure hope we can pull this off."

_TBC_

_Thanks for reading, stay tuned for the big dinner! Reviews are appreciated :)_


	30. Chapter 30

_Thanks for the reviews! And since I'm such a junkie (for reviews...) and I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night, here's another chapter :) Enjoy!_

**Chapter Thirty**

Abby giggled to herself as she let herself into Tony's apartment. She'd been overcome with laughter when she opened the email from McGee detailing the birthday party for Gibbs they were organizing. The thought of Tony, Ziva and McGee in the kitchen… well it was too good to miss. So here she was, arriving almost one hour before the specified time to see it first-hand.

And there they were, the three of them crowded into Tony's kitchen. They were obviously too busy to notice her arrival, so she crept over, leaning on the kitchen bench to watch.

"Probie! That's not how you chop an onion. Here, let me." Tony commanded, shoving McGee out of the way with his plaster cast. Even one-handed (and chopping with his left hand), Tony diced the onion into tiny, even squares and then swept them into the frying pan. "Now stir. Don't let them burn."

McGee quickly took up the wooden spatula. Tony turned his attention to Ziva, who was stirring a pink mixture in a bowl. "How's it going?"

"I'm almost finished, Tony. And I don't need you looking over my shoulder." She sniffed the air. "Although I think McGee does."

Tony immediately spun, walking back to McGee who was desperately scraping at the sizzling onion in the pan. "McGee, it's been cooking for less than a minute! How could you possibly burn it?"

McGee gave up his futile scraping, tossing down the spatula and looking guiltily. "I don't know!"

"I thought you said you could cook, Probie."

"I can… sort of…"

"Toast and instant noodles don't count, McGee. I'm demoting you. You can make the salad." Tony said, pointing his finger toward the waiting lettuce. McGee sighed heavily, looking disappointed and dragged himself over to the lettuce.

"Cheer up, McGee," Abby said, reaching across to pat him on the back. He spun. As did Tony and Ziva.

"Abby!" McGee said, startled.

"You guys look like you're having fun," she said, holding up a bag. "I brought ice-cream!"

"You're kinda early Abs," Tony said as she jumped up and wandered over to put the ice cream in the freezer.

"Well, I didn't want to miss DiNozzo's cooking class." She grinned, reaching up to wipe off the pasta sauce that had splashed on his face. "So, what's on the menu?"

"Well…" Tony began, gesturing around the kitchen. "In this pot we have Tony's famous spaghetti bolognaise. This – " he pointed, "is my lasagna, which I was in the process of finishing before McGee decided to showcase his prowess – or lack thereof- in the onion-cooking department. And there's gnocchi and fettuccini and meatballs over there – ." He pointed to the kitchen table.

"McGee's working on the salad," Tony continued with a nod toward McGee who was hacking into a carrot. "And Ziva is icing her cake."

"Ooh, cake! What kind?" Abby moved beside Ziva, who was carefully applying the pink icing to her layer cake.

"Strawberry." Ziva said tersely.

Abby tilted her head to take in the beautiful cake. "A masterpiece like that needs a more… exciting name than 'Strawberry' cake."

"Super strawberry cake?" McGee offered.

Abby shook her head.

"Super sweet strawberry cake?" Ziva suggested.

Again Abby shook her head. "It needs to be more…." She wiggled her fingers, trying to think of the right word.

"Ziva's super sweet triple-decker diabetes-inducing strawberry cream killer cake." Tony said, his back to the group as he put the final layers of sauce, cheese and pasta on his lasagna.

"That's it!" Abby said, meeting Tony's hand for a high five.

"Killer cake?" Ziva folded her arms.

Tony stuck out his tongue. "Well you are an assassin, right?"

"Yes…"

"So, it sounds cool." Tony nodded firmly, obviously believing he'd made his point.

Ziva didn't bother replying, turning back to her cake and placing sliced strawberries on top of the icing. McGee shrugged and went back to his salad and Tony put his lasagna in the oven to bake.

"So, what do you want me to do?" Abby asked, twirling on a stool at the kitchen bench. Tony tossed her a packet of napkins.

"Wanna help me set the table?"

Five minutes later, the dining table was set with placings for eight people. Each plate was decorated with a napkin folded as a different origami animal, courtesy of Abby. Ziva finished work on her cake, placing it in the fridge for the icing to set. All that remained was for the lasagna to cook and McGee to finish his salad (he was finished the lettuce and carrot, starting on the tomatoes).

Tony checked his watch. "They'll be here in thirty minutes. Everything is going exactly as planned."

There was a series of short, sharp raps on the door and he froze, the confident smile vanishing from his face. Only one person he knew knocked like that…

* * *

_Well... that's an intense cliffhanger to leave you on the edge of your seat for the next few days! Who could it be? Haha. Go on, guess, it's not exactly hard :P Hope ya liked, leave a review??_


	31. Chapter 31

_Who's at the door? I didn't realise it would be such a mystery... some of ya had some pretty diabolical predictions. Heh, I'll store those away for a later chapter. If you've read all 30 (!) chapters of this so far, you've probably noticed something. I can write two things; Tony Whumping or Cheeseball Chapters. Guess which one this is? It's not hard :P_

**Chapter Thirty-One**

_Tony checked his watch. "They'll be here in thirty minutes. Everything is going exactly as planned."_

_There was a series of short, sharp raps on the door and he froze, the confident smile vanishing from his face. Only one person he knew knocked like that…_

* * *

"…Gibbs."

The door swung open before Tony could move to open it and Gibbs strolled in, carrying a bottle of wine in hand.

"Hey boss." Tony waved dumbly.

Gibbs just smirked. Tony looked down. He was still wearing his _Kiss the Cook_ apron, a ratty old tee-shirt and he was pretty sure he still had streaks of tomato paste on his face. Damn. He hadn't had a chance to change yet. That explained why Abby giggled when she first saw him. "You're here early."

"Heard you were cooking dinner. Wanted to see if I could help," Gibbs explained.

"I think we're good boss," Tony said, but Gibbs walked around him into the kitchen. He inspected every pot and dish, nodding with approval, then moved over to McGee, who was now battling a cucumber to make the salad. Gibbs smirked again.

"You sure about that, DiNozzo?"

Tony came over to see the salad. The lettuce was already drooping. "You-" he pointed at McGee. "Out of my kitchen. You're bad karma, and I don't want my lasagna to burn."

McGee meekly left, joining Abby and Ziva on the couch as they channel surfed on Tony's big-screen. Tony reached for the cucumber, but Gibbs pushed his hand back.

"Let me."

"Ah, thanks boss, but this is supposed to be your birthday dinner."

"So?" Gibbs quirked an eyebrow and Tony couldn't think of a reply, so he shrugged and grabbed Gibbs a beer from the fridge. Gibbs threw out McGee's excuse for a salad, starting fresh with the lettuce and tomato.

"I'm…ah…. I'm gonna go get changed now boss."

The corner of Gibbs' lip twitched. "You do that DiNozzo."

When Tony returned ten minutes later, dressed in jeans, a buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his hair styled into a sort of orderly chaos of spikes (and all traces of pasta sauce removed from his face), the salad was finished and sitting on the top shelf of the fridge and Gibbs had joined the rest of the group on the couch.

"Nice, Tony." Abby said, slouched in an armchair.

He grinned. "Same to you, Abs." With the cooking done he was able to appreciate her outfit. She'd dressed up for the occasion, wearing a tight black dress with red polka dots, black knee high boots with a stiletto heel and red ribbons in her hair.

The doorbell rang and Tony grinned. "See boss, how come you don't use the doorbell? It's there for a reason."

Gibbs shrugged. "What's the point, my hand's just as good." Tony looked like he was about to say something else, but Gibbs pointed to the door. "You gonna get that?"

Tony sighed dramatically, ambling over and pulling the door open without bothering to check through the spyhole.

"Jesus DiNozzo, it could be a murderer at the door for all you know," Gibb said, shaking his head.

Tony laughed. "Gibbs, I don't think any murderer would be stupid enough to crash your birthday party." He turned his attention back to the group at the door. "Hey, c'mon in."

Ducky, Palmer and Lee followed him into the apartment. Palmer and Lee approached Gibbs, unnerved by the expression on his face. He actually looked happy. Relaxed. They were immediately wary.

"Happy birthday Special Agent Gibbs." Lee said very quickly and Palmer thrust a wrapped package toward Gibbs.

"Thanks," Gibbs said, obviously not expecting a gift. He tore off the plain black wrapping, revealing a timber photo frame. Inside was a photo of the team; Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, McGee, Abby, Ducky and Palmer. Lee wasn't in the picture, but if Gibbs remembered correctly, she'd been the one taking it at the time.

"Nice, boss." McGee said, looking over Gibbs' shoulder. "When was that taken?"

"Couple months ago," Gibbs said. He remembered, they'd just closed a high profile case and there'd been a small article written about it in the NCIS newsletter. About as much press coverage as they'd ever get, Gibbs suspected. The photo was taken to accompany the article. He held the frame closer to his face, having left his glasses at home. It was a staged photo, but everyone looked genuinely happy. Exhausted but happy. As tended to happen when they closed a case.

"Thanks a lot," Gibbs said sincerely, setting the frame down on the coffee table. Lee smiled shyly and Palmer blushed.

"Sure thing Special Agent Gibbs."

"We're not at work, Palmer. Call me Gibbs."

"Yes sir," Palmer nodded fervently.

"Let's eat." Abby decided, helping Tony and Ziva with the all the pasta dishes. Gibbs was placed at the end of the table. Tony sat closest to him, Abby sitting between Tony and McGee. Ziva sat next to Gibbs on the other side of the table, then Lee and Palmer with Ducky facing Gibbs at the other end of the table.

"This is amazing!" Palmer said, digging into the lasagna. Ducky nodded his agreement over a bowl of spaghetti.

"Tell Tony, he made it!" McGee said, tilting his head up the table toward Tony, who was in the middle of an intense discussion with Ziva concerning the size of his DVD collection.

"I just don't understand the need to buy DVDs. You already know what's going to happen…"

"Yeah, but that's not the point, Zee-vah." Tony said through a mouthful of pasta. "I mean, they're called classics for a reason."

"How can a movie be classical? And how do you expect me to believe that – all of those –" she pointed to his overflowing DVD cabinet, "are 'classical'?"

"Classics, Ziva. C'mon –" Tony shifted his gaze to Gibbs. "Help me out here boss – wait, scrap that." He looked back at Ziva, grinning. "Gibbs still watches videos."

"Nope." Gibbs said good-naturedly.

"Really boss? You got rid of the old VHS, upgraded to the digital age?" Tony said excitedly.

Gibbs stared at him.

"What am I saying, of course you didn't. Probably don't even have a video player. So what do you watch?"

"Television." Gibbs said simply, reaching across to the (expertly made) salad.

"Heh." Tony said, leaning back with his beer.

"Ah Tony, if we may interrupt," Ducky said, calling up the length of the table. "Mr Palmer and I were just saying how wonderful this meal was."

"Hear hear!" Abby said, holding up her glass.

"A toast." McGee joined in. "To Gibbs, happy birthday, and to many more. And to Tony, for sharing his cuisine skills." He blushed slightly at the end, recalling his dismal attempts to assist in the kitchen, but soon all the glasses were raised with his.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this?" Palmer asked Tony. Ziva frowned, watching Tony closely. She assumed it had been his mother who taught him, and she remembered all too well his reaction last time his mother was mentioned. To Ziva's surprise, and immense relief, Tony grinned.

"The cook." He said, sipping his beer. "Didn't have much else to do growing up, so I hung with her. Guess I picked a few things up."

"I'll say," Gibbs said firmly.

Ten minutes later, the plates were cleared and Ziva emerged from the kitchen, delicately balancing the masterpiece of a cake she'd created.

"Whoah!" Gibbs said as it was placed in front of him. "What do you call this?"

"Ziva's super sweet triple-decker diabetes-inducing strawberry cream killer cake." Ziva said, almost bashfully.

"Delightful name, my dear." Ducky said.

Gibbs was then treated to perhaps the most obscure version of 'Happy Birthday' he'd ever heard. A combination of voices from Ducky's tenor to Palmer's soprano plus Ziva getting the lyrics jumbled (_Happy birthday you too_). When they reached the _'Happy birthday, dear insert name here,'_ part of the song, it got even stranger.

Tony and McGee sang "Happy birthday dear Boss."

Ziva sang "Happy birthday dear Gibbs."

Abby sang "Happy birthday dear Bossman."

Palmer sang "Happy birthday dear Agent Gibbs."

Lee sang "Happy birthday dear Special Agent Gibbs"

And Ducky sang "Happy birthday dear Jethro."

Gibbs chuckled, blowing out the single candle atop the pink cake.

"So, boss…" Tony began as Gibbs started slicing the cake and sliding pieces onto plates. "How old are you anyway?"

Gibbs gave Tony an evil stare of death that threatened to melt Abby's ice-cream in the freezer. McGee shrunk down in his chair. He knew; he'd glanced at the date when he was checking Gibbs' NCIS personnel file earlier. However, he valued his life and his job and didn't want to risk either by venturing the information.

"Just kidding of course boss," Tony said quickly before Gibbs' evil stare burned a hole through him. He held out his already-emptied plate. "More cake?"

_TBC_

_A/N: If you guessed 'Cheeseball Chapter', you would be correct. I may have gotten a little carried away... but I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks as always for the reviews! And thanks for reading, I'm impressed you're still with me after 31 chapters of craziness :P Update soon!_


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Much later that night, after the team had left and there was only a moderately small pile of plates resting in the sink, Tony flopped back on his bed. It had been a stressful day to say the least, and Tony wasn't even talking about the impromptu dinner party. His first session with the therapist had left him feeling better about both his father and himself, but it hadn't given him the peace of mind he'd hoped for.

Rather the opposite. The therapist seemed intent on probing into his deepest memories, memories that were repressed for a reason. Still, Gibbs thought therapy was a good idea, and if Gibbs thought it was a good idea, Tony thought it was a good idea. Kind of. His mind was swimming with thoughts and memories that were unpleasant to say the least.

He sat up, pulled off his jeans and shirt. It was late and he didn't have the energy to get up and find pajamas anyway. Tony just hoped the two beers he'd had over dinner would be enough to dull the synapses of his brain and give him a little peace. He was tired.

His brain didn't agree. The boat had been sold, his lawyer had handled that already and the charities had already been organized. The last connection to his father was literally out of his life. Well, maybe not the last connection. There was still his family to consider, the uncles, aunts, cousins who were still in the family business. He still wasn't sure how he felt about them. They'd known, or had at least had some sort of idea about his parents. The drinking problem his mother and father had shared. The violence. And they'd been perfectly happy to accept it, to let it all go on without a word. Some family.

Tony rolled onto his side so he could see out of the bedroom window. "Can't choose your family."

His sleep was broken and dotted with flashes of memory. Mostly his father, some of his mother too.

_His father telling him he was useless, stupid, worthless. _

_Waiting outside the school after a basketball game, all of his friends long gone while he was waiting for his parents to come and pick him up. Hours later, giving up and walking home to find them both drunk in the living room. _

_His father's face when Tony had graduated from military school and had been offered a sports scholarship to Ohio State. The beating when Tony refused to obey his father's wishes and go to business school. The brutal beating when he'd defiantly told him he wanted to be a cop._

Tony sat up in bed, his face dripping with sweat. It took a second for the disorientation to fade, and he realized what had woken him up. His cell phone was ringing. The tinny sound of the ringtone carried down the hall and into the bedroom. It was soft, but Tony had always been a light sleeper, even in the grip of a nightmare.

It was another second before he figured that since he was awake, he might as well answer the phone. Especially if it was Gibbs calling. The fear of keeping Gibbs waiting was enough to have him out of bed and sprinting down the hallway to the kitchen where he'd left the phone.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the caller I.D. Abby. Probably calling to check up on him, although he wasn't really sure why. Tony's mind flashed back to his thoughts before falling asleep the previous night. _You can't choose your family._ But you could choose your friends. And he'd done well this time, the people surrounding him were more a family than his blood relatives had ever been.

Gibbs, the protective, stern, all-knowing father. Ducky, the friendly, charming Grandfather who'd literally seen it all. Abby was like his fraternal twin, always knowing what he was thinking without the need for words, their minds operating on the same wavelength. McGee was like his little brother, nerdy and sometimes in need of protection, but at the same time, fierce and intelligent. Kate had been like a sister to him as well, beneath all of the bickering and teasing there was always an unspoken bond. Even Ziva was part of the family, maybe not a sister on the same level as Kate and Abby, but at least a cousin, joining in with the adventures and excitement.

The cell phone he held in his hand stopped ringing, and the sudden silence pulled him out of his mind. He'd gotten so caught up he'd failed to answer. Abby would not be pleased. Then again, it was – he glanced at the clock on his microwave – 6 am, so maybe she'd figured he was asleep and given up.

Or not. The phone vibrated, then started ringing again. He answered immediately.

"Abby." Well, he did sound kinda sleepy.

"Did I wake you?"

"Yeah… but it's okay."

"Good. I was just checking you weren't out running." She sounded pleased.

"Why would I be ru-" Tony was confused, but Abby cut him off.

"Because you know, your arm isn't fully healed yet, it's still in a cast and I don't trust you to know your own limitations. You could probably hurt it even more if you went running."

Abby's rapid talking was enough to wake Tony up completely, and it clicked. Abby was way too smart for her own good sometimes. She'd known the therapy session would cause nightmares. And she also knew that his usual reaction to nightmares was to go running. It hadn't been possible with the leg injury, but with his knee healed, she was worried he'd go running to clear his head and manage to hurt himself again. With the heavy cast throwing off his balance, it wasn't beyond the stretch of imagination that running could cause injury. Especially where Tony was involved. Abby knew he wouldn't want to talk about the nightmare outright, but asking about the running was her subtle way of checking up on him.

Tony grinned into the phone, sitting down on the stool. Sometimes it scared him how well Abby knew him. Truth was, even if the phone call hadn't interrupted his nightmare, he probably wouldn't have gone running anyway. He was too tired and after the knee injury, totally out of condition. Still, it was nice to know someone cared.

"Thanks Abs, but I didn't go running. Too busy doing the washing up."

He could hear her snort of suppressed laughter. "You still haven't done it?"

"Been up all night scrubbing the pots my dear."

"Yeah right, DiNozzo. Firstly, Ducky and I did just about _all_ of the washing up. And secondly, you have a dishwasher so all you have to do is load the plates in. Lazy!"

"Yeah." Tony grinned again. "Ya think Gibbs liked his birthday party?"

"When was the last time you saw him smile so much in one night?"

"You've got a point." Come to think of it, Tony couldn't ever remember seeing Gibbs smile so many times in a whole week, let alone one night. He was pleased with himself. They'd done well. "Kay Abs, since you've got me up now, I might as well hit the shower. Surprise Gibbs again and come to work early."

"Hah. That would be a first for you Tony. Definitely be more of a surprise than the party. I wonder how he found out about it anyway? Maybe he really is a mind reader?" Abby sounded excited.

"Maybe Abs. I'll see you at the office." He hung up the phone, rolling it in the palm of his hand before setting it back down on the bench.

"You can choose your friends," Tony said to himself, a smile forming on his lips. He'd definitely chosen well.

* * *

_See, I'm being versatile! From your reviews, lots of you like the cheesiness and some people still prefer whumping. So this is a compromise, angst and cheese. Heh. So anyway, I know I write way too many Author's Notes, but I thought I probably should tell ya, there's only one chapter of THHK left. That's right, the silly story with absolutely no storyline is coming to an end! I really hope you enjoyed the (long!) journey, because I've had the best time writing this and reading the reviews. You all rock, seriously. Until next chapter..._

_super em :)_


	33. Chapter 33

_A/N: Last one!_

**Chapter Thirty-Three (Epilogue)**

_6 Weeks Later_

The elevator dinged and Tony strolled out. He slung his backpack in the corner, swung his feet up onto his desk and counted to ten before anyone noticed.

"Tony. Your cast! It's gone!"

Tony grinned at Ziva across the bullpen, flexing his newly-healed fingers. "Mighty observant of you, Miss David."

"Tony, that's great!" McGee popped up from behind his computer and strolled over to inspect the completely plaster-less arm. Tony nodded. It was great. For the first time in months, he was feeling completely healthy. And, since his cast had been removed the previous afternoon, he'd even been able to fit in a run this morning. Not his usual 6 miles, but with a week or two of training he'd be back at his peak again.

Tony blinked and realized McGee had suddenly returned to his desk, disappearing behind the computer screen. His feet were swept off the desk before his mind could register a reason for McGee's retreat.

"I see your arm is better DiNozzo."

Gibbs. Of course. Tony wondered if Abby could fix him up an alarm system to alert him when Gibbs was coming. He looked up to see his boss standing over him, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Sure is, boss." Tony flexed his arm for the benefit of Gibbs, then reached down to turn on the computer.

"Don't bother DiNozzo," Gibbs said, striding to his desk and yanking open the top drawer. He grabbed his badge and clipped his gun into the holster. McGee, Tony and Ziva, watching him, followed suit.

"We got a case, boss?" Tony asked, standing up.

"Yep. Dead Marine was found in a Virginia park." He glanced over at Tony. "You cleared for field duty?" When Tony nodded he continued. "Good. You can drive."

Tony caught the keys, pumping his fist in the air. Ziva looked slightly disappointed and McGee looked relieved. While he wasn't exactly the safest driver, Tony drove like a grandma compared to either Gibbs or Ziva. And while his breakfast tasted good going down, McGee was in no rush to taste it again.

The downside of Tony driving, McGee thought as he sat squashed in the back of the NCIS truck, was that it also entitled Tony to choose the music. With Tony out of the field for what had added up to more than 12 weeks, McGee had heard a whole lot of Ziva's bass and rhythm-heavy tunes and had even had a chance to choose the music on several occasions. Gibbs, of course, drove in silence. However, with Tony at the wheel there was no knowing what his ears would be contaminated with next.

Sometimes it was heavy rock, sometimes jazz, sometimes rap and even Frank Sinatra was known to make an appearance. Tony knew all the words and, just in case they didn't believe him, indulged his passengers by singing along at the top of his lungs.

Today the radio was playing some gansta rap. Tony drummed his hands on the steering wheel as the truck glided smoothly down the freeway.

McGee sighed, grateful for once to be stuck in the back of the truck. He didn't envy Ziva and Gibbs, trapped in the confined front with Tony and his voice.

"Th-th-th-that that don't kill me, can only make me stronger." Tony sang, changing lanes.

Gibbs hand reached past Ziva, who was stuck in the middle, and whacked Tony on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Shut it, DiNozzo, or I will kill you."

Tony glanced up from the road. Gibbs' face was deadly serious so he changed to a different station. Country music filled the car and Tony frowned. No way he was singing along to that. Gibbs seemed pleased.

McGee wasn't. Even Tony had a better voice than the country singer. Thankfully they arrived at the scene shortly after. The body was stretched out over a bench in the middle of a park mostly frequented by joggers and mothers with small children. Blood pooled under the bench from a gun shot wound to the man's abdomen, a crowd gathering around the crime scene tape that had been put up by local LEOs.

Ziva photographed while Tony sketched the scene and McGee was sent on a trek around the perimeter while Gibbs waited for Ducky and Jimmy to arrive. Once they'd finished, Gibbs sent his team to talk to the witnesses.

Tony spoke to a group of three mothers with their children who'd been feeding ducks by the pond when the body had been found by a jogger, who'd raised the alarm. They all remembered seeing a man in a black jacket and a green baseball cap around the area shortly before the body was found. Tony thanked them and met up with McGee and Ziva, who were also finished.

"Anything?"

"The guy who found the body didn't notice anything unusual beforehand, but he did recall a man in a black jacket hanging around the bench on his first lap of the park." McGee reported.

Ziva nodded. "The groundskeeper I talked with also mentioned something similar."

Tony frowned, scanning the crowd still gathered around the crime-scene tape up the hill from them. He grabbed Ziva's sleeve, pointing. "See that guy at the back? Black jacket, baseball cap?"

"I see him too," McGee said, squinting up.

"I think that's our guy." Tony said, climbing back up the hill. He, Ziva and McGee spread out, each approaching the suspect from a different angle. McGee got there first, flashing his badge.

"Excuse me sir, I need to ask you a few questions."

The man in the cap looked somewhat surprised. He stood still for a moment, then took off without warning, careering down the hill.

"Damn!" Tony shouted, weaving through the crowd in hot pursuit of the man. He could hear Ziva's feet thudding right behind his own. Despite being slightly out of condition, Tony was quicker on his feet. He caught up to the man, grabbing him from behind, both hands on the man's shoulders.

"Whoah!" The man pitched forward, taking Tony with him and together they rolled down the hill. Unable to stop the momentum, Tony tumbled down, still hanging onto the murder suspect, until they both landed in the middle of the pond with a resounding splash.

"Eugh!" The man jumped up, wading quickly out of the muddy pondwater and into Ziva's waiting handcuffs before Tony could even stand up. When he did, he found his shoe was stuck in the mud.

"Damn it! That was Italian leather." Tony muttered, still thigh-deep in the water.

"Are you okay Tony?" McGee called out, slightly breathless. "That was some fall."

Tony nodded, abandoning his shoe and hopping through the pond on one leg. Gibbs was waiting at the edge of the pond when Tony finally hopped out, looking more than amused.

"Have a nice trip, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said, offering his hand to Tony

"Very funny boss," Tony said, taking Gibbs' hand for balance as he pulled off his mud-soaked sock. He stepped down on his now-bare foot, but cried out in pain, the leg buckling under him. Gibbs grabbed Tony, lowering him down to the grass.

"What is it?"

Tony gritted his teeth, the pondwater still dripping down his face.

"I hurt my knee."

**The End**

* * *

_Hahahahahahaha… how's that for a cheesy ending! But how else do you end a never-ending story with no apparent plot? I hope this didn't disappoint you. I want to thank everybody who reviewed this. Every single review brought a smile to my face, so that's a lot of smiles :P Hugs to you all, and I apologize for not replying personally to each of them. Even if you didn't review, thanks for reading. I really admire your stamina for making it through all 33 chapters of this story. At over 40,000 words, this is the longest thing I've ever written in terms of both length and time. I hope you enjoyed both the last chapter and THHK as a finished piece. Please drop me a review if you did, because you can never smile too much :)_

_I also should say that the song Tony was singing is from Kanye West's 'Stronger'. Great song that's been totally stuck in my head all week. I guess writing it in was another way to justify listening to it again :P_

_I've got a few new things (NCIS of course) in the works so look out for me in coming weeks… Anyways, this is a really long A/N. Sorry! I just wanted to say, I've had so much fun writing this. I feel kinda sad now it's all over. But without your enthusiasm, THHK wouldn't have been so long and hence I wouldn't have had so much fun. So thank-you!_

_super em xo_


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